


A Year in the Office of Albus Dumbledore

by Nicnac



Series: Honey Bee 'verse [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-02
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-13 10:26:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/502515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicnac/pseuds/Nicnac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's first year at Hogwarts as told by a series of ten meetings in Dumbledore's office over the course of ten months.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. September 6th

**Author's Note:**

  * For [josephina_x](https://archiveofourown.org/users/josephina_x/gifts).



> I've had the first chapter of this written for almost a year now, and have been holding off on posting it since the story was on an unofficial hiatus. If it weren't for josephina_x's story [Rose Potter -- The-Girl-Who-Lived](http://archiveofourown.org/works/497962/chapters/872933) getting me back into the HP fandom, then I'd still probably be sitting on it, so this one is for her ^_^.

Albus Dumbledore was just a bit worried. Severus had asked him if he had some time to for a meeting that evening at seven, which might seem like a spur of the moment type of thing, but Severus had that look that said “I’ve been planning this a long time so don’t mess it up.” Not that that was particularly worrisome in itself, look number 12 was one of Severus’s favorites, right after number 1 “I hate the world and the world hates me” and number 5 “I can’t believe the idiocy I’m surrounded by.” No what had Albus worried was that Severus had shown up for meeting with Poppy in tow and announced they wouldn’t be able to start until Minerva showed up with Harry. Albus wasn’t sure what was going to happen next but it couldn’t be good, not with Severus sporting number 8, “You’re not going to like what’s about to happen, and I’m going to enjoy every minute of it.”

The three of them had been waiting for a minute or so when there was a brisk knock on the door, and Minerva entered, followed by Harry. The boy appeared a bit more subdued than on the other occasions Albus had seen him around the school and more than a little nervous. That was understandable though, given he had been called to the Headmaster’s office on the first week of school and likely had no idea why.

“Harry, so nice to finally get a chance to talk to you, my boy,” Albus said, hoping a warm welcome might calm the young wizard down, an effort which seemed marginally successful.

“It’s nice to meet you Professor. Er... I’m not in trouble am I?”

“No Mr. Potter, you are not in trouble,” Severus said, choosing to answer Harry’s question himself, luckily for Albus. He really wasn’t entirely sure what this was all about, but it seemed a shame to give up his impression of omniscience this early on.

The announcement, or more likely the sight of the Potion’s Master, relaxed the boy completely, achieving what Albus’s earlier words could not. And that was another thing he was worried about, Harry’s obvious emotional attachment to Severus. It wasn’t jealousy (though he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t at all jealous), but concern for Harry’s welfare. Albus knew, despite the many student rumors to the contrary, Severus did indeed have a heart and was fully capable of love. But, because of that, Albus also knew better than perhaps anyone else how emotionally shut-off Severus really was, and despite all the teasing (really Severus was much too fun to tease) Albus was afraid that the things Severus did were out of duty to Lily’s child, not genuine caring for the boy. Harry was going to go through far too much, and was too important for Albus to be willing to stand aside while he continually threw himself at the walls Severus had built around his heart. Trust between the two of them would be good, but trying to build an emotional reliance would likely only break the boy. It really was too bad, Lily’s son had a better chance than anyone of getting Severus to open up again, but there were more important things at stake than one man’s emotional well-being.

Still, it wouldn’t do to just rip Harry away from Severus, as that would likely shut Harry off emotionally as well, which was the very last thing Albus wanted. No better to build a relationship with the boy first and slowly build up a replacement support network before gradually weaning him off any dependence on the Potion’s professor. Remus was still convinced he needed to stay away from Harry for the boy’s own good, but Albus thought if he started working on it now, he could probably convince the man to come and visit Harry by Easter break, provided the moon wasn’t full, of course. That would probably be the best course for all involved.

Whilst Albus had been ruminating, everyone else had found seats, and now Severus seemed ready to begin. “Mr. Potter, do you remember when I told about what happened to your parents?”

“Yes sir,” Harry replied, and Albus was glad to see that he had inherited his manners from his mother rather that his father.

“Do you remember what you promised me in exchange for me telling you that story?” Severus prompted. Minerva looked vaguely outraged that Severus would put a price on that particular story, but Albus was just somewhat amused. Leave it to Severus to find way to bargain with information he fully intend on giving anyway.

“You said I’d have to truthfully answer any questions on one topic of your choice. You don’t want do it now, right here do you?” asked Harry, looking a bit panicked. Clearly he had expecting the question and answer session to be a private conversation.

“Yes I do. You didn’t see fit to make any specifications about time and place when you made the deal, so you can’t complain now that they aren’t to your choosing. Or are you intending on going back on your promise?” said Severus.

“No sir,” Harry replied sullenly, though Albus hoped he was paying attention. It’s not every day that the Head of Slytherin deigns to give students lessons on cunning. “What’s the topic?”

“I think, Mr. Potter, I would like you to tell us what your life with the Dursley’s was like. You can start with the address written on the first letter you received from Hogwarts.” Harry looked reluctant to answer and Albus felt his vague sense of worry develop into something that wasn’t quite full-blown panic, but it was a close call. “Answer the question; I will see to it that you do not get in trouble with your relatives for it.”

“Mr. H. Potter, the cupboard under the stairs, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey,” Harry recited.

For a moment the room was completely silent. Finally Albus spoke up. “Harry did you sleep in the cupboard the night before the letter came as a joke, or on a dare?” he asked, praying he was right.

At first he thought Harry wasn’t going to answer, but the boy took one look at Severus’s face and dutifully responded, “No sir, that’s where I slept every night until I got that letter. After that Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon moved me into Dudley’s second bedroom.” And the conversation only went downhill from there.

Severus somehow managed to maintain a calm, professional air throughout the whole thing (Albus suspected him of using Occlumency as a form of emotional control), but Minerva was looking nothing short of murderous, and Poppy’s hands actually started twitching with her desire to drag Harry down to the hospital wing and start running any number of tests. Objectively speaking, it really wasn’t anywhere nearly as bad as it could have been. A few carefully worded questions from Severus eliminated the possibility of sexual abuse and the physical abuse seemed to be mostly limited to enabling their son and his friends. Harry’s words, however, painted a picture of an unloved child, who had been neglected and mentally and emotionally abused, not to mention the frightening new light his skinny frame took on. A child whose guardians not only made it clear they didn’t want him, but went out of their way to make sure no one else would ever look on him kindly either. Albus had known that there was some favoritism going on at the Dursley’s, Arabella had told him that much, but this went far beyond anything he suspected. Though now he had to wonder how much of his blindness had been willful; how much had he been subconsciously ignoring in order to keep the use of the blood wards?

Finally Harry and Severus fell quiet, and the torture was ended. Albus stood up, walked over to Harry, and, heedless of the creaks and protests of his old bones, knelt down in front of the boy, taking his hands into Albus’s own wizened ones. “Harry,” he said, his voice as thick and heavy as the feeling in his chest, “I hope you know that I… that we didn’t know it was so bad for you.”

Harry looked almost confused, though whether it because of Albus’s statement or his emotional reaction, it was hard to say. “Of course you didn’t sir, how could you?”

“Harry, I’m going to tell you something, and I can only hope you forgive me for it. I was the one who put you in your Aunt’s care when your parents died, but I want you to know that I only did it for your own protection. You know about the night your parent’s died?” Harry nodded. “Well what a lot of people don’t know, is that when Voldemort came to your house that night he told your mother she could live if she let him kill you. But your mother refused to get out of his way and died because she was trying to protect you.”

Harry’s eyes were over-bright as he replied “I know, Professor Snape told me.”

Albus felt as shocked at the revelation that Severus would share something so personal, as Minerva and Poppy, who hadn’t heard any of this about Lily before, looked, though Albus rather hoped he concealed it better. “That was good of Professor Snape,” Albus finally said, giving Severus a meaningful glance. “Did he tell you about the blood wards too?” Harry shook his head, so Albus continued. “Well, because of what your mother did I was able to cast a very powerful spell that made it so, as long as you lived with one of your mother’s relatives, you would be safe from any of Voldemort’s followers who might be around and even Voldemort himself, if he was, as I fear, still alive in some way. But I never would have just left you there had I known they were going to treat you like that, and I promise that it will never happen again. Do you think you can forgive an old man his mistake?”

Harry was quiet and thoughtful for a moment, which was, in a way, more reassuring than an instant and light-hearted reply. If Albus was to be forgiven he wanted it to be because he deserved it, not because Harry wanted to make him feel better, or because the boy had an easily forgiving nature. After a minute’s deliberation Harry finally answered. “I forgive you. You were just trying to protect me, and no one has ever done that before, besides my parents and Professor Snape.”

For what felt like the first time all evening Albus smiled. “Thank you, my boy. Now I think you’d better go with Madam Pomfrey, I know she’s dying to give you a once over after that story.”

“Do I have to?” Harry protested.

But Poppy was in her element now that Harry had been officially placed under her charge, something that even some of the professors had a hard time standing up to. “Yes you have to. Lord knows what kind of lingering damage those horrid people caused. You’ll be lucky if I don’t decide to keep you all weekend. Now march,” she said, pointing to the door.

“All weekend? But Draco, and Ron, and me were going to help Neville build his aquarium tomorrow.” Poppy’s stance did not quiver one iota, and eventually Harry sighed and relented. “Yes ma’am.”

Albus thought he saw Minerva suppress an eye roll before she said, “Come on Mr. Potter, I’ll come if you and see if I can’t convince Madam Pomfrey to let you return to the tower tonight, but only if you fully cooperate with whatever test she needs to run.”

“I will,” Harry assured Minerva brightly. Then he turned back to address Albus and Severus again. “Good night Professors,”

“Good night Harry,” Albus replied, while Severus gave a brief nod in recognition. The two women ushered Harry out, leaving just Albus and Severus.

Wordlessly Severus stood up and offered his hand to Albus, to help him up from where he was still kneeling on the ground. “Thank you, my boy. I’m afraid I’m getting too old to do this kind of thing.” Severus didn’t respond to his comment, but Albus wasn’t particularly surprised by that. While it was universally acknowledged that Albus Dumbledore was old, most witches and wizards seemed content to completely ignore any negative effects that his age might have.

“Well then Severus, I suppose I will bid you good evening, unless you have something else you need to discuss?”

“Not at the moment,” Severus said. He walked to the door, but then paused, hand resting on the doorknob and looked back with an expression that Albus was quite sure he hadn’t seen before. “Oh, and Dumbledore? Harry will not be going back to the Dursley’s.” And then he strode out of the office, leaving Albus alone with his guilt. 


	2. October 31st

Albus traveled up the spiral of steps to his office, having received word that the troll had been apprehended, and was not particularly surprised to reach the top and see Severus waiting outside the door. Quirrell’s little scene earlier had been highly suspicious and Albus was actually a bit disappointed in his former student, albeit secretly. Not because he was, at best, greedy and selfish enough that he didn’t care if children got hurt, though that was upsetting too, of course. No, Albus was disappointed because he was relatively certain some of the first years could and had come up with better distractions and Albus was relatively certain Quirrell had only gone through with it so he could make that admittedly impressively dramatic entrance. But regardless of why he had done it, the fact remained that Severus was bound to investigate anything that suspicious and report any findings to Albus. So Severus’s presence was no surprise, though Albus hadn’t been expecting him to be accompanied by four children.

“Why, Professor Snape, Miss Granger, Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Weasley. What a pleasant surprise.” Severus looked up from giving the children look number 2 “You’re lucky that it’s illegal to chop people up for Potion’s ingredients” to give Albus an approximation of an eye roll. Albus choose to ignore this in favor of opening the door to his office and gesturing the children, who looked an interesting mix of in awe and terrified, through. He conjured a few extra chairs and took his own seat behind his desk before turning to the assorted group before him. “Now what seems to be the problem?”

The three boys turned to Hermione, who in turn turned to Severus to answer the question. 

“I found the four of them in the girl’s bathroom, trying to take on a troll,” said Severus, sounding unsurprisingly displeased by this.

Albus felt his eyebrows rise in surprise. “The four of you faced a troll. Did anyone get hurt?” There was the appropriate amount of concern in his voice, but truthfully he wasn’t all that worried. The children all looked a bit shaken up, but none of them appeared injured.

“Neville hurt his ankle,” Hermione reported dutifully. Neville looked a bit embarrassed by the attention, and muttered something about it being “just a sprain.”

“If that’s the worst of it, then I think you can all count yourselves lucky. Now,” Albus said, scrutinizing each of the children in turn, “what exactly happened?”

He directed the end of this question to Severus who said, “Granger, since you were so eager to share, why don’t you tell the Headmaster what happened?”

Interesting. If the children had already told Severus their side of the story, then their presence in Albus’s office could only mean one of two things. Either Severus considered whatever they had done to be so bad that he lacked the authority to mete out the proper punishment, or more likely – though only slightly so; Severus was a bit trigger happy with regards to expulsion for non-Slytherin students – he suspected them of lying to him and believed that Albus might be more affective at ferreting out the truth than Severus would be with his own terrifying, from a child’s perspective at least, methods.

“Please, Professor Dumbledore, it’s all my fault,” Hermione said with a measure of desperation that did seem to lead credence to the lying theory. “I had read all about trolls and I was sure I could deal with it on my own. So I went looking for it, and they came after me to try and stop me from getting hurt. By the time they caught up with me the troll had already cornered me and there wasn’t time to go fetch any help. They tried to confuse it and maybe hurt it a bit so we could all escape, but it was too big and probably-” Here, Hermione let out a great sniff, her eyes over-bright. Considering that these four children had apparently faced down a full-grown troll on their own, the fact that none of them had broken down before this was a bit surprising. Must be the adrenaline.

With a casual flick of his wand, Albus summoned up a handkerchief floating in the air before the poor girl, which she accepted with a mumbled thanks, dabbing her eyes. “And then suddenly Professor Snape showed up and shouted out a spell I didn’t recognize,” Hermione continued, nose wrinkling with distaste at her own lack of knowledge.

“ _Stupefy_ , the stunning spell,” Ron volunteered, causing everyone in the room to turn toward him and regard him with some surprise. _Stupefy_ was hardly a part of the average coursework for a first year, nor was it something that might just be picked up around the house growing up in a magical family. Ron, however, just shrugged in response and said, “It comes up a lot in my brother, Charlie’s stories.” Charlie being the one who went on to work with dragons. That would explain it.

Hermione nodded and, despite the continued presence of tears, got a bit of a calculating look in her eyes, as though she were filing that bit of information away for later reference. “The troll did fall over unconscious after that,” Hermione said, agreeing with Ron’s assessment.

Now it was Severus’s turn to be regarded with mild surprise, though only by Albus this time. Trolls weren’t anything like easy to stun, and doing it single-handedly was no mean feat. Albus considered congratulating the man on his accomplishment, but then Severus was so sensitive about these kinds of things, and Albus wouldn’t want to embarrass him in front of the children.

So, rather than saying to Severus, Albus looked back to Hermione. “Is that all?”

“For the most part, Professor,” Hermione answered. “All that happened after was I told Professor Snape what happened and Professors McGonagall and Quirrell showed up in time to take care of the troll so Professor Snape could bring us here.”

“I see.” Well, she was clearly lying. Not about the latter half of the story, that rung true, but the beginning…

“You know, Ms. Granger, I’ve heard a good deal about you from the other professors,” said Albus in a conversational tone. “The unanimous agreement is that you are very intelligent for your age, and justifiably proud of that intelligence.” Severus half-made a noise that might have, in private company, been a snort, but Albus stood by his statement. Severus comments about her just needed a bit more translation was all.

“They also all agree that you are very respectful of the rules, and not likely to be inclined to do something such as, say, run off on your own after I instructed all the students to return to their dormitories.”

Hermione quailed under his direct, if somewhat subtle, prodding, but didn’t retract her earlier lie. Ah, well, Albus was far from done yet.

“I’m afraid I wasn’t quite so well-behaved when I was your age, not as bad as your two brothers Mr. Weasley,” Albus said with a small chuckle, effectively drawing Ron into the conversation before turning to Harry and Neville to bring them in too, “but I did get myself into trouble now and again. And, of course, whenever I was caught I did what most of us do when we’re caught doing something we oughtn’t; I lied. Now, I won’t tell you I never got away with it, I very much doubt you believe me if I did, but when I didn’t manage to get away with a lie, I found the consequences were a good deal worse than they would have been if I had just told the truth.”

Albus let that statement sit in the air and waited. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t take long.

“Don’t be angry at Hermione, she just didn’t want us to get into trouble,” Neville said, stuttering slightly.

“Yeah, Professor, don’t blame Hermione; it’s all my fault really,” Harry insisted.

“And what makes you say that?” Albus asked gently.

“She wasn’t even in the Great Hall when Professor Quirrell told everyone about the troll, she was in the loo cr – errr… she had gone to the loo. And when you told everyone to go to their dormitories Neville remembered that she wasn’t around to hear and I said that we should go get her and warn her. And everything else she said was the truth,” said Harry earnestly.

“Mmmm,” Albus said, thinking. It was certainly good to hear that none of them had done anything so foolish as to actually try and take on a troll, but this was a bit worrisome. Still, best to alleviate the children’s nerves before he dealt with it. “Thank you for being honest. Now, Ms. Granger, I can hardly fault you for availing yourself of the restroom, nor are you boys in trouble for trying to warn a fellow student about a dangerous situation.” All four children sagged a bit in relief and Albus granted them a brief smile before continuing. “I would like to have a private conversation with Mr. Potter however; Severus if you could take Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley, and Mr. Longbottom to the Hospital Wing so Madam Pomfrey can take a look at Neville’s ankle?”

Albus was half expecting Harry to intercede and ask if Severus could stay while the two of them talked, and Albus was fully planning on leaving that decision up to Severus’s discretion. What Albus was not expecting was for _Severus_ to say, “Actually, Professor Dumbledore, I would like to stay and have a word with Mr. Potter as well.”

Albus blinked in surprise once before dutifully turning to Harry and saying, “It’s up to you Mr. Potter.”

Harry darted a quick glance up at Severus before saying, “I’d like it if Professor Snape stayed, if he doesn’t mind sir.” Well, at least Albus had completely lost his ability to predict people.

Albus turned back to the other three children. He could probably just have them wait outside the office, but there was no guarantee that the quick word he wanted to have with Harry wouldn’t turn into something longer, and it really would be better if Neville had his ankle looked at sooner rather than later, even if it only was a sprain. Normally he might instruct them to go to the Hospital Wing by themselves, but after the way the evening had been unfolding, it didn’t seem a good idea to send them off without any kind of supervision. There had to be someone he could have look after them… Ah!

“Fawkes,” Albus called, and with a gentle trilling the phoenix emerged from whatever back corner of the office he had been perched in, landing on Albus’s desk.

The children regarded Fawkes with an open-mouthed astonishment, with the exception of Harry who didn’t seem to realize Fawkes was anything beyond a particularly magnificent bird. A lack of knowledge that was soon to be remedied when Hermione blurted out, “That’s a phoenix! I read all about them in _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_.”

Albus’s lips curved up into an amused smile. “Yes he is. Fawkes is also a very dear and loyal friend. Fawkes,” he said, addressing the bird directly, “these three need an escort to the Hospital Wing. Would you be willing to help?”

Fawkes turned his head an inspected Albus with one eye before inspecting the children with the other. Then, with a chirp of agreement, he launched himself off the desk and landed directly on top of Hermione’s head. Ron, Neville, and Harry looked at Hermione with a mixture of amazement and envy as Hermione, with the same amazement, tentatively reached up to touch Fawkes’s feathers. He allowed her three strokes before he nudged her hand with his beak and made a gently impatient sound. “I believe he’s eager to see you to your destination,” Albus suggested.

“Yes sir,” Hermione agreed, “er–”

“Fawkes will find his own way back here after Madam Pomfrey takes charge of you,” Albus said, guessing at what she wanted to ask. When that failed to get her to stop biting her lip, he continued, “And he’ll be more than happy to direct you if you get a little lost on the way there.”

Her expression cleared and she said, “Thank you Professor,” before turning to leave. Ron and Neville followed her out, Neville limping a little and Ron offering a shoulder for the other boy to lean on.

Once they had left Harry turned to Albus a bit nervously and asked “I’m not in trouble am I?”

Severus rolled his eyes a bit and pointed out, “Professor Dumbledore just said you weren’t in trouble less than ten minutes ago.”

“Quite so,” Albus agreed.

Harry gave the both of them a sheepish grin. “Oh, right.”

“I just wanted a quick word with you, Harry,” Albus assured. “Now, am I correct in assuming that, while you lived with your Aunt and Uncle, if you had any sort of problem or something troubling you, you were expected to sort it out for yourself?”

“Yes sir,” Harry said, swallowing.

“And do you think that might be why this evening, instead of telling one of the Professors about Ms. Granger’s predicament, you went to go find her yourself?”

Harry’s eyes went wide with shock. “I’m sorry Professor, I didn’t even think –“

“It’s quite alright,” Albus told him, giving Harry a gentle smile. “You lived with your relatives for ten years; even if the ways that they taught you of dealing with certain things are no longer applicable it’s understandable that you might forget from time to time. I just wanted to remind you that all of us, the professors, the Head Boy and Girl, the prefects, we’re all here to help you if you need it.”

“Harry,” Severus interjected, “how do you think I knew to come to save the four of you so quickly?”

“Er… didn’t you hear the troll wrecking the bathroom Professor?” Harry hazarded.

“No,” corrected Severus. “Mr. Malfoy saw the three of you leaving the Great Hall and came and told me because he was worried you were going to do something to get yourselves hurt.”

“Oh. I guess I should thank Draco then,” Harry said.

“That would be a good idea,” Albus agreed. “And maybe next time follow his example as well.”

Harry nodded, and then peered apprehensively up at Albus from under his fringe. “Um, Professor? What if I forget next time too?”

“Well,” said Albus brightly, “I suppose I’ll just have to remind you again.”

“Yes sir,” Harry said, grinning brightly.

“Good. Now, is there anything else you wished to say to Harry, Professor Snape?” Albus asked, turning to Severus.

“Only that I’m willing to remind him as well, as many times as it takes to get it through that dunderheaded skull of his.” Harry beamed up at Severus, and Albus fairly suspected himself of beaming too.

“And did you have any other questions, Harry?”

“No sir,” Harry said, shaking his head.

“Alright,” Albus said. “If you do have any questions or concerns in the future, my office is always open to you. That same password, ‘Chocolate Frogs,’ will be good for the rest of the year. But for now, I think if you hurry you can catch up with your friends on their way to the Hospital Wing.”

With a quick goodbye Harry rushed out of the room, with Severus following at a more sedate pace.

Alone, Albus leaned back and thought. Severus had been far more open with Harry this evening than Albus had expected him to be willing to be. He hadn’t said much over the course of the meeting to be sure, but that he had requested to stay during a private somewhat emotional conversation with Harry, and had voluntarily offered the boy encouragement had been something of a surprise, a pleasant one.

This certainly bore watching.


	3. November 9th

Albus often found himself wishing that he could thank whichever former Headmaster or –mistress it was that had come up with the idea to have a chime sound in the Head’s office and private quarters whenever the correct password was given to the gargoyle guarding the entrance below. Of course, he could always thank them indirectly by conveying his gratitude to the appropriate portrait, but no less than five of them had claimed in the past the distinction of being the first to implement it for their former selves and Albus had never been able to get to the bottom of the matter. In any case, it was exceedingly useful to have the extra minute’s warning so he could put aside whatever he was currently working on, or return to his office from his attached chambers if need be.

This advantage was occasionally further compounded by the tendency of the portraits of the castle to gossip like a gaggle of maiden aunts, keeping Albus up to date on the goings on in the castle that he was not directly present for. Well, not like Aunt Annabelle who, from what Albus recalled of her, had been a rather shy woman who had kept to herself, but he had met a fair number of other maiden aunts in his time and the comparison did seem reasonably apt. Former Headmaster Vulpus had even confessed to using the portraits as his own personal spy network on the students, though Albus couldn’t for the life of him imagine why he should care which young woman’s heart Jason Morgan had broken this week – though he did sometimes wonder if Mr. Morgan realized his life was being treated as a soap opera by the castle’s bi-dimensional inhabitants – or when Vulpus could have possibly found the time to keep up with it all. Of course, by all accounts Vulpus had been a less than exemplary Headmaster, and Albus supposed it would be easier to find the time to get up to things you weren’t supposed to be doing when you didn’t care about accomplishing the things you were. Still, in general the portraits did a good job keeping Albus abreast of the important issues while keeping their own noisy interests out of it.

What all this meant was that when Severus barged through his office door without so much as a knock, Albus was sitting calmly at his desk waiting, unsurprised by his sudden appearance and already somewhat appraised as to what he was here about.

“I told you this would happen,” Severus snarled as he came in.

Albus raised his eyebrows in a look of mild surprise. “Did you? I remember a well-made point about not rewarding his misbehavior in flying lessons – which is why he also served a detention for the incident – and I remember thinking that there was maybe some, well-justified as it turns out, worry that Slytherin might lose the Quidditch Cup this year, but I recall no mention of the possibility of Harry’s broom going crazy and trying to buck him off when you raised your objections over my giving Harry special dispensation to join the team as a first year. Perhaps you could be a bit clearer next time.”

“I was referring to the incomprehensible decision you made to keep Quirrell on staff this year,” Severus corrected. “Especially after the incident on Halloween.”

If Albus was surprised by this abrupt departure from the topic he had been expecting, he didn’t show it. “Despite the general ineptitude of the planning of that entire episode” – given how much more time it must have taken to sneak out of the castle unnoticed, track down a full-grown troll, capture it, and sneak it back into the castle unnoticed than he could have ever possibly hoped to gain in the confusion of the staff trying to track down a troll roaming the halls, Albus could only assume that Quirinus had guessed, correctly, that Albus had placed wards to alert him when someone reached his as of yet incomplete defenses around the Stone, and believed, incorrectly, that Albus would be to distracted trying to chase down the troll to notice or care when those wards went off – “he was able to keep from leaving any definitive evidence that he was responsible for it.” Albus knew that he was for a certainty, especially given that Quirinus’s own defense for the stone was yet another troll, a sloppiness that very well might have made Rowena Ravenclaw cry with shame at the lack of thought from one of her own House had she known, but he lacked anything that could be considered real proof.

“While Quirinus may not be the best Defense Against the Dark Arts professor one could hope for under ideal circumstances, under these circumstances…” Albus trailed off. Having worked through thirty-four different professors in the same number of years would likely have him sorting through the dregs and calling in favors by now even if it hadn’t managed to scare off most of the more promising candidates. “Aside from his thus far unprovable attempts to steal the stone, the only complaint I can level against him is the sudden surge in his meekness this year, and a lack of confidence is hardly a fire-able offense.”

“What about attempting to murder a student, is that a ‘fire-able offense?’” Severus asked silkily, and Albus found himself half out of his chair before he realized he had moved.

With a slow deliberateness, Albus made himself sit back down. If Harry were still in any danger, and there was no doubt in Albus’s mind that Harry was the student in question, then Severus would hardly be here chatting with Albus; at most he might have paused to send a Patronus to come fetch Albus before diving in to save Harry. “Perhaps you better tell me the whole story.”

It was fairly short in the telling, Severus noticing Harry’s broom suddenly behaving oddly, leading to a curse and counter-curse struggle between Severus and Quirinus that concluded with Harry being completely bucked off his broom. Luckily, Severus’s efforts meant enough time had passed for other people to notice Harry’s plight and as soon as he fell from the broom Madam Hooch had grabbed him mid-air with a hover charm. The boy had then drifted gently into the arms of the Weasley twins circling directly below him before revealing that he had somehow caught the Snitch in his mouth during all the pandemonium. However, Albus suspected the incident had seemed interminably long for those living it, and, since it had concluded relatively happily even without his involvement, Albus had to ashamedly admit to some selfish relief that he hadn’t been present for it.

“Well, that certainly is cause for concern,” Albus said once Severus was done.

“Cause for concern?” Severus repeated incredulously. He wasn’t actually foaming at the mouth, Albus noticed with some disappointment since that would brought his number of looks up to a nice round 25. Ah well, Severus had been ever so much more lively since Harry had reappeared and Albus held out hope that they would get all the way up to thirty by year’s end. “A professor at this school, one who is almost certainly in league with one of the former Death Eaters if not the Dark Lord himself, has tried and very nearly succeeded in killing Harry, the bloody Boy-Who-Lived, and you think it’s just cause for concern?”

“Under other circumstances it might be cause for full-on alarm, but as it is I think you’re blowing things a little out of proportion.” Albus said calmly. “While admit that this latest attack on Harry is compelling evidence, we do not as yet have any proof that Quirinus is working on Voldemort’s behalf or that Voldemort is even still alive. And while I understand that this episode has been quite upsetting for you,” – an accusation that Severus made no attempt to deny, which was as good admitting to it. How delightful! – “you know as well as I that Harry was in no real danger of dying because of it. Even if he had fallen off his broom completely unnoticed by the other players, Madam Hooch, and the faculty in the stands, the wards on the pitch wouldn’t have let him get away with anything more than a couple of broken bones.” There were parents that argued that those wards should be strengthened to the point the children couldn’t get hurt at all while playing, especially the Muggle parents who had yet to fully grasp how what would be considered major injuries to them were fairly trivial in a world with healing magic, but as the majority of the parents of the children who actually played were appalled by the notion – trying to gain an advantage by getting your opponents roughed up a bit being a time-honored tradition in Quidditch – the wards stayed as they were.

“Additionally, I have to say I would find Quirinus’s plots far more worrisome if they weren’t so consistently ill-conceived, ill-thought out, and ill-planned. Their execution leaves something to be desired too, I think.”

“I grant you that his actions have lacked a certain degree of cunning, or even general intelligence, but I find the foolish adversary to be far more worrisome than the cunning one,” Severus countered a sentiment that Albus judged to be so un-Slytherin, that it wrapped right back around again on itself. “A cunning adversary you might be able to outthink, but a foolish one you have no hope of predicting.”

“Perhaps equally worrisome,” Albus conceded. “At any rate, firing him is simply not an option at this point.”

“He tried to kill Harry!” Severus said.

“An action for which we have no evidence save your word,” Albus rebutted.

“Are you saying you believe me to be lying?” Ah, look number 16: it had the outward appearance of number 7 ‘How dare you doubt me,’ but this version was merely a thin veneer masking real hurt underneath.

“Have I ever, since the night you first came to me seeking help, given you cause to believe that I doubt your competence or loyalty?” Albus asked gently. He let the question hang in the air for a moment, and while Severus offered no verbal response, Albus saw his message had gotten through when some of Severus’s pain, though not all for Albus suspected it may well be the work of a lifetime making up for the ways in which he had failed this man in his boyhood, receded. “If you say Quirinus is to blame for today’s incident, then he is, but keep in mind that this is no light accusation you are making, and there are certainly people out there less inclined to believe your word than I. Furthermore, I may have been understating how very thin of ice I am on with the sheer number of Defense Against the Dark Arts professors I have gone through these past years. I do not believe I could get away with firing a well-respected professor who has been a member of my staff for years immediately after he took the post on nothing but the word of a man who is, please excuse my bluntness Severus, less than well-respected in the Wizarding World, not without some severe consequences. Not to mention the very real concern as to whether or not dismissing Quirinus will put a stop to the attempts both on Harry’s life and to steal the stone.”

“It would be enough to stop Quirrell himself, but not whoever is pulling his strings,” Severus stated, and on the matter of the likely actions of Voldemort and his followers, such as they remained, Albus had to agree with Severus as the expert. It need not be said that in that case it would be far safer for all to keep Quirinus, the foe they knew about and could monitor, rather than risk the introduction of some new mole they were unaware of.

“I’m still not pleased with the situation,” Severus said with a piercing glare that seemed to suggest the whole thing was Albus’s fault, “but since there is no point in sitting around wishing, rest assured I will be keeping a very close eye on both Quirrell and Harry.”

“I would expect no less,” Albus replied. Severus then took his leave looking less incensed, if not any happier, than he had been when he came in.

That left only the question of what Albus was going to do now. He had originally been keeping quiet about his suspicions regarding Quirinus, believing that any help that he might have received to be far outweighed by the possibility that Quirinus might then be tipped off to the fact Albus was on to him. What was that old saying, two people can keep a secret if one is dead? A bit extreme, perhaps, but it certainly underscored the prudence of discretion. But now there was more than just the Philosopher’s Stone at risk should Quirinus succeed, Harry’s life hung in the balance as well. While it would still be too risky to inform _all_ the rest of the staff of Quirinus’s duplicity, Albus trusted Minerva, and indeed all his Heads of Houses, absolutely, so perhaps he should at least alert them of the true danger. On the other hand, if Quirinus not only had no compunctions about hurting Harry, but actively wanted him dead, then the potential consequences should he discover that he had been found out and panicked were also exponentially higher. Clearly, the matter required a good deal more consideration; the possible repercussions of the making the wrong choice meant this was not a decision to make lightly. In the meantime, there was no harm in advising all his staff to keep a closer watch on Harry, if he even needed to after the blatant public display today.

Above all, Albus must make sure he did not fail Harry again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everybody! *waves excitedly* Are you surprised to see me here? _I_ was surprised to see me here. But it looks like my totally unjustified optimism that I would come back to this story eventually has been vindicated. Take that me and all you other doubters!


	4. December 25th

Albus smiled softly at the sound of the timid knock on his office door. “Come in,” he called, placing the finishing touches on the tea he had laid out on his little table and chairs by the fire in his office. The house elves who had brought the tea service up to his office had been aghast at the thought of Albus doing such a thing for himself, that was their job and certainly the Headmaster Dumbledore Sir needn’t concern himself with such little things, but Albus found it was the little things like this that were the most enjoyable. Besides, a person could forget how to take care of himself if he always let everyone else do it for him.

The door opened and Harry walked in, looking surprised that the sight of Albus sitting down to tea. Though Albus wasn’t at all certain why; his note asking Harry to his office for a Christmas tea had been quite straight-forward, he thought. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Yes. Please, come join me,” Albus replied, gesturing at the chair across from him.

Harry took the chair, still looking a bit uncertain. Albus supposed that was understandable; it could be a bit nerve-wracking as a student to be called to the Headmaster’s office, even for a benign reason, and Albus hadn’t been able to make nearly as much time for Harry as he would have liked since the term started. “I’m not in trouble, am I sir?” Harry asked.

“Of course not, whatever gave you that idea? I just find that tea is more enjoyable when you have pleasant company to share it with,” Albus said, pouring them both a cup and adding a dollop of milk and liberal amounts of sugar to his own. “Do try one of the lemon squares; they’re my favourites. Though I admit, I am rather partial to lemon.”

“I actually really like chocolate,” Harry confessed as he slid into his chair. Albus smiled at him at turned the platter so that the chocolate biscuits were facing him. Harry helped himself to two, as well as one of the lemon squares. Albus meanwhile took two of the lemon squares as well, and a few of the other goodies, and then they had a few quiet minutes while they both enjoyed their treats.

Albus made a point to never request any specific house elf for any specific task without an extraordinarily compelling reason, both because he wished to avoid any appearance of favouritism, and because he trusted them to know their jobs well enough to know which of them was best suited for any particular thing he might request. Despite that lack of requesting, and because they really were very good at their jobs, whenever Headmaster Dumbledore Sir ordered sweets (which was not nearly often enough in the house elves’ view; if the portraits of Hogwarts were gossipy maiden aunts, then the house elves in the kitchen were grandmothers constantly fretting that their charges were far too skinny) the duty was always immediately given over to Lumi, who made the best lemon squares in all of Britain, and was quite accomplished at other puddings too. As such both Albus and Harry ended up cleaning their plates and going back for seconds – probably not good for Harry’s long-term health, Albus acknowledged, especially after the rather large Christmas dinner they had enjoyed earlier, but it was Christmas after all, and the boy had had so few treats in his life – before either of them spoke again.

“How has your Christmas been?” Albus asked once they had both finally emerged from being engrossed in their treats.

It was the right question to ask. Harry fairly glowed as he enthused, “It’s been brilliant; the best Christmas ever!” He happily related to Albus the events of the day, including a blow-by-blow recounting of the snowball fight he and the Weasleys had had earlier that afternoon, as well as everything else that he and the other boys had been up to earlier that week. “ _And_ I had a whole pile of presents at the foot of my bed this morning,” Harry concluded, and Albus had to suppress the sadness that welled up within him by how amazed Harry sounded by this fact. “It was less presents than Dudley usually got, but all his are only from Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, and maybe one or two from Aunt Marge, and I got presents from loads of different people.”

“Presumably because there are ‘loads of different people’ who care about you and wish for your happiness,” Albus said. He assumed from the way Harry had said it that the boy had already put that together, but there seemed no harm, no harm and a world of good, in pointing it out.

Harry’s cheeks pinked a bit and he ducked his head bashfully. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Albus favoured him with a fond smile. “Go on then, I’m sure you’re dying to share what all it is that you received.”

Harry nodded, and launched into a description of his presents with as much detail as his recounting of the snowball fight earlier. A box of chocolate frogs from Hermione Granger and a book on famous Seekers in Quidditch history from Draco Malfoy – nothing from Ronald Weasley, but as he, unlike Hermione or Draco, had been stuck on Hogwarts campus for the holidays that was hardly surprising. A flute from Rubeus Hagrid, also not surprising given that Harry and his friends visited the man not infrequently. Molly Weasley had sent the jumper that Harry was currently wearing, as well as a tin of fudge, which Albus thought denoted a remarkable degree of restraint on her part. Albus had decided, after much deliberation and conferring with Poppy who had in turned conferred, anonymously, with a Paediatric Mind Healer from St. Mungo’s, to give Arthur and Molly an overview of what Harry had experienced at the hands of his relatives. While Albus currently had no intention of trying to foster Harry with the Weasleys fulltime, as he didn’t think Harry would get the special attention he needed and deserved in such a large family, he did hope that Harry would spend plenty of time with them to get a better experience of healthy family dynamics.

The revelation that Minerva had apparently given a box of Bertie Bott’s to all the student in her House that had stayed behind over the break _was_ surprising, but only momentarily. Minerva was far too fair-minded to single out any one child for a treat that had not been earned, even if she felt that the child deserved it, but there was nothing stopping her from giving out treats to all her charges. And Albus knew that she had been feeling almost as guilty as he had for what had happened to poor Harry, believing that she could have done more to convince Albus of the Dursleys unsuitableness as guardians. Albus had tried to tell her that, even during what most of the Wizarding World saw as their hour of triumph, he had been so worried about the potential danger to Harry both from a possible future return of the Voldemort and the very real and immediate threat of the Death Eaters still loose, that he likely wouldn’t have listened to anything short of testimony that she had seen Harry’s aunt and uncle blatantly abusing their own son, but that didn’t seem to offer her any relief. Guilt was funny that way. That, and Albus thought that perhaps she doubted that he could ever be that panicked; people tended to forget that, whatever else he was, Albus was still just a person, and subject to the same follies and foibles as anyone else. Albus had used that to his advantage on occasion, but he also had cause to find it extremely inconvenient on others, and it was always a bit off-putting.

“But these were my favourite of everything I got,” Harry said, pulling an envelope out of his robe. His tone was pitched as though he were confiding a secret, but Albus could have guessed it by the fact that it was the only present he was carrying on his person – aside from the jumper, of course, but that was likely a purely practical consideration as the castle could get very could in the winter, especially after one has just come inside from a snowball fight – which meant either that he was reluctant to leave it behind, that, despite his conspiratorial tone, he was eager to show it off, or both.

Harry reached into his envelope and pulled out a small stack of photographs, perhaps ten or fifteen in total. He placed them on his lap and picked up the first one to show Albus. “This one is from Neville and his Gran,” he announced. He did not, Albus noted, actually hand the picture over, instead placing it on the table between them. Out of respect for Harry’s obvious reticence on the matter, Albus did not attempt to pick the picture up or move toward him, instead leaning in closer to get a better view.

The photo depicted two women lying in adjacent beds at St. Mungo’s with their husbands standing beside them and each with a baby in her arms. “That’s Neville’s mum and dad,” Harry said pointed to the couple on the left, unnecessarily so as Albus had readily recognized the young Alice and Frank Longbottom. “And that’s my mum and dad, with me.” Harry continued, pointing to the other small family. The couple, upon hearing Harry refer to them, looked up briefly to wave at Albus and Harry, but shortly their attention was once again taken in by the infant in Lily’s arms. They were quite absorbed, and no one looking at the picture could doubt how very much they loved their new son.

“Neville and I were born at the same hospital, only a couple of hours apart, and when we were real little sometimes our mums would let us play together,” Harry told him. This too, Albus knew already, but he listened intently all the same and made no attempt to interrupt. Harry had spent his whole life only knowing his parents through other people telling him about them, and he seemed to be enjoying being able to inform someone else for a change, even if he was only passing on second-hand information. “Neville’s gran’s letter said she was sorry that the picture isn’t just me and my mum and dad, and she would look some more to see if she could find any, but Neville really wanted me to have this one.”

Albus felt a minor burst of surprise. To all accounts Neville avoided even the slightest mention of his parents. In fact, when Augusta Longbottom had sent in the Hogwarts acceptance letter for him, she had been quite clear that her grandson was very sensitive about the subject of his parents, and that no one should bring them up unless he did so first, and if anyone tried to tease him or pick on him for it, then the bullies would be punished, or she would be having words with the Headmaster. Augusta was a formidable woman; it was no wonder she and Minerva got on so well.

“That was very thoughtful of him. Mr. Longbottom seems a very good friend,” Albus said.

“He is,” Harry confirmed. “And I never had a picture of my parents or of me and a friend before, so I like that this one is both.” Albus smiled at Harry, but he couldn’t seem to say anything past the lump in his throat.

“Sir? Do you know if Neville’s parents died too? Is that why he lives with his gran?” Harry asked.

“I believe that is something that I will leave to Mr. Longbottom to decide how much and when he wants to tell you. Suffice to say for now that they are not deceased, but are unable to take care of their son at the moment,” Albus told him.

Harry nodded. “It’s just that Mrs. Longbottom said that if I ever wanted to talk to Neville about my parents that he’d probably get it. That’s why he wanted me to have the picture.”

“Mrs. Longbottom is a very smart woman,” Albus said. “You’d do well to listen to her.”

Albus let the silence sit for a minute or two, not wanting to cut Harry off if had anything else to say, before prompting the boy again. “Did you want to show me your other pictures?”

“Oh, yeah,” Harry said, reaching to his lap to grab the next one. “The rest of them are all from Professor Snape.”

Albus was well past the point where he should have been no longer surprised by these little revelations, and yet he could not help but be amazed by the changes one little boy had wrought in Severus Snape. All the staff of Hogwarts – save perhaps Sybill Trelawney and the ghost of Cuthbert Binns, but those two were often off in their own little world – had tried at one time or another to drag Severus out of his shell, but he had spurned all attempts. Severus had always seemed… not happy, nor content, but comfortable, maybe, in his bitterness. Then Harry had come along. Albus wasn’t sure if it was his connection to Lily or if he reminded Severus of his own less than idyllic childhood or if it was just that Severus found it much easier to open up to someone who needed to depend on him, rather than someone who expected Severus to lean on them. Whatever the reason, Albus was glad they had found each other.

The pictures were of Lily, of course, though much younger than she was in the other picture with the Longbottoms. In the first she looked barely more than nine or so, and she was completely arrested in time in it, as it appeared to be a Muggle photograph. She got progressively older as the pictures continued and after the first three she began moving in the pictures, having apparently learned how to develop magical photographs. With each picture Harry gave Albus a brief description of where Lily was, or what she was doing, and Albus began to suspect that, should he look at the backs of the photos, he would see Severus’s cramped script.

Various other people appeared throughout the photos, Lily’s friends and even her parents in two or three of them, but it wasn’t until the very last one that Severus showed up. It was a picture of just the two of them out by the lake, taken sometime in their fifth year Albus would guess from their apparent ages. Severus was looking more than a bit gawky and so very much the surly teenager that Albus had to stifle a few chuckles. Lily looked up at them, smiling and waving, and gave Severus a poke in the side when he did not seem inclined to do the same.

“I think my mum was really pretty, don’t you think, Professor?” Harry asked.

“Your mother was a lovely woman, inside and out,” Albus assured him, and Harry sent him a beaming grin in response.

Now Lily was giving Severus a playful shove and he, making a clear show of his exasperation, gave a half-hearted wave up at Harry and Albus. But as soon as Lily turned her attention away from him, the exasperated expression dropped and he regarded her a look of such fondness and longing that not even young Harry could have missed it, though Albus suspected that some of the nuances of the feeling might have one over his head.

“Do you know if my mum ever forgave Professor Snape?” Harry asked, and Albus blinked up at him in surprise. “I’m not sure what he did, but I know it was something that made her really mad and not want to forgive him. But I think she must’ve eventually, because they were such good friends, right?”

Albus considered his next words carefully. The truth, that due to both needing to keep Severus status as a spy under tight wraps, and Severus’s own insistence that he did not want Lily told any of the part he had played in both putting her family in danger and protecting them from it, Lily went her grave believing that her former best friend was a faithful minion to the man who had murdered her and her husband, and was about to murder her son as well, seemed far too harsh for an eleven year old boy. On the other hand, he did not wish to lie to Harry either. “I’m sure that, wherever your mother is now, she’s looking down on Severus very fondly – when she’s not watching over you, of course,” Albus finally settled on.

Harry smiled, seeming satisfied with that answer. Then he turned back to his photographs, which had taken over most all of the table, despite a good amount of overlap.

“It’s quite a collection you have,” Albus said admiringly.

Harry nodded. “And the best part is, I showed them to Hagrid earlier and he said he would owl all my mum and dad’s old friends to see if he could get even more, and find them an album to put them all in.”

“That’s thoughtful of him,” Albus said, making a mental note to reach out and ask Rubeus if he needed any help tracking down those old friends. Come to think of it Albus might have one or two photographs of his own lying around somewhere.

That caused another idea entirely to occur to him, and after asking Harry if he wouldn’t mind waiting few minutes, Albus excused himself back to his rooms.

Albus had only one picture of his entire family together, taken sometime shorty before Ariana’s sixth birthday. The five of them all looked so happy in it that the picture often ended up face down in the back of his closet. But just as often it could be found on his bedside table, or on the desk in his office – it tended to migrate around a fair bit depending on Albus’s mood. At the moment it was sitting on the mantle of the fireplace in the main room in his quarters, where he could look at it often while going about his business, without having to see their expressions too closely.  He wasn’t sure anymore which was older, the photo itself or the plain wooden frame it was in, but the two had been together for at least ninety years now, ninety-three this August. Albus didn’t know if so short a time was enough for a plain object to absorb ambient magic, or if such a thing was even possible without a deliberate action by a caster – the more he learned about magic, the less he seemed to know – but Albus tended to believe it was on both counts. And if the frame really did have some sort of latent magic for the remembrance of those loved and lost, then Harry needed now more than Albus.

So with a brief apology to the happy family, and a promise to buy a new frame in the future, Albus removed the photo and went back out to his office proper.

“It’s not the most impressive present, but I believe you may have a use for this,” Albus said, handing the frame over to Harry.

“Thanks, Professor,” Harry enthused, taking the gift gladly. He set the frame aside for the moment, setting the picture of his family and the Longbottoms on top of it, before carefully collecting the rest of the photographs to put back in his envelope. He gathered them in chronological order again, this time with the one with the youngest Lily at the bottom, leaving the one with Lily and Severus for last. He stared at the photo for a long moment, and then glanced over at the frame and the photo of the two families biting his lip in consideration.

“How foolish of me,” Albus said airily, summoning another picture frame of his from off a shelf. This one was not particularly special, though it was a fairly handsome one, silver with green accents that nicely matched the ribbon on his Order of Merlin, First Class, which he was receiving in the picture contained within. “I’m certain that with such a nice collection you’re bound to have more than one photo you wish to have framed.”

“But your picture,” Harry protested.

Albus smiled at him. “At the risk of sounding immodest, I must confess that I’ve gotten so many awards over the years, I’ve forgotten what most of them are even for,” Albus said conspiratorially, and Harry gave a snicker of amusement. “I like your pictures much better.”

“Thank you!” Harry said, even more enthusiastic than before. He immediately placed the photo of Lily and Severus within, and then held it up for both their admiration. The green accents also proved a lovely match for Lily’s eyes, as Albus suspected they might.

Albus allowed Harry a few more minutes to admire his pictures in their new frames before bringing up the last topic he wished to discuss. “I did have one more thing I wanted to give you.”

Harry looked up at him with surprise. “But you’ve already given me two Christmas presents, sir. I don’t need anything else.”

“Well then don’t think of this as a present so much as me returning something of yours. Your father lent it to me before he died, and it’s high time it was returned to you.” Albus reached under his chair and pulled out a parcel that was, despite his words, wrapped up much like a Christmas present.

Originally, Albus had been planning on leaving the gift anonymously for Harry, ostensibly because it was far too much to ask to expect an eleven year old boy not to get into any mischief whatsoever when given an Invisibility Cloak and, even if Albus personally believed a little mischief to be a healthy thing in a child his age, it wouldn’t do for it to appear that the Headmaster was condoning such behaviour. There had also been, Albus admitted to himself, more than a little guilt in that decision. Albus wasn’t sure if the cloak was quite big enough for two full-grown people to fit under it and move around, but certainly one adult, even an adult carrying a small child, would be able to use it to travel undetected. It seemed to Albus that it was his fault that Harry had grown up without either of his parents, and even the knowledge that there was simply no way to be sure of whether or not the cloak would have made a difference – they had all been so certain of the Fidelius Charm, and the attack had been so sudden – did little to alleviate his conviction. Guilt was funny that way.

After the revelation of Harry’s home life, however, Albus had been reconsidering his original inclination toward anonymity. It was important now that Harry learned that not all the adults in his life were like his aunt and uncle and that there were ones who could be trusted to take care of him and to care _for_ him. Of course, Severus was already making marvellous strides on that front, but as Albus had been such a large part of hurting Harry, even inadvertently, he wanted to be a part of helping Harry to heal too.

Harry, all of his reserve vanished at the mention of his late father, took the parcel and tore into it with all the gleeful abandon that Albus would typically expect to see in a child his age. It did Albus’s heart good to see near tangible proof that Harry’s capacity for joy had not been broken by his horrible relatives. Having ripped open the paper, Harry stroked a wondering hand over the slippery-smooth silver fabric before looking up at Albus, questions in his eyes.

“Trying draping it over your arm,” Albus suggested.

Harry did so, then his eyes went wide when his arm disappeared. “Wicked,” he said softly.

“Indeed,” Albus agreed, his voice rich with fond amusement. “It is an invisibility cloak, a particularly fine one at that. It will, as the name suggests, render anything you place underneath it invisible.”

After that Harry was quite eager to test the cloak out, using it on various pieces of furniture around the room and on his own body parts. Eventually Albus had to conjure a mirror, so Harry could see, or rather not, the results when he hid the whole of himself under it. Albus let the boy play, declining to do anything to refocus Harry’s attention or speed him along and, as such, it was a good while later before Harry returned to his seat.

“I do wish to speak to you seriously for a moment,” Albus said, and the boy nodded and looked at him attentively. “Now, under the circumstances I’m not going to forbid you to use the cloak on school grounds or even ask that you don’t. All I want you to do is to keep in mind that the rules we have are here to protect you and the other students, and if you took advantage of the situation and ended up in harm’s way because of it there are a large number of people who would be distraught, myself included. This is a very serious responsibility I’m giving you, but I think you can be trusted with it. Do you agree?”

“Yes, sir!” Harry said, sitting up straighter and obviously feeling very proud of himself and pleased. It had been something of a risk, giving him the invisibility cloak, but a calculated one and one that appeared as though was going to pay off. Trust was a two-way street, after all, and it would be unfair for them to ask Harry to trust them without showing that he was trusted in turn.

“You’re very welcome. Happy Christmas,” Albus said.

“Happy Christmas to you too, Professor. I hope you’ve had a good one,” Harry said.

Albus looked at the boy in front of him who was, despite the horrors life had seen fit to bestow on him, safe, healthy, and above all, practically glowing with happiness. “Yes I have, Harry. A very good Christmas indeed.”


	5. January 4th

This time Severus had actually scheduled an appointment, rather than bursting in in a righteous fury, but that didn’t seem to help the anger any. Albus rather suspected the man of stewing over the matter for the last hour or two, working himself almost into a frenzy. Still no frothing at the mouth, though.

“Four months, it’s been four months without any indication that you’ve even attempted to find more suitable guardians for Harry, much less made the arrangements and permanently removed him from the odious care of Petunia Evans and her whale of a husband,” Snape raged, pacing back and forth the width of Albus’s office. Yes, he’d definitely been stewing, and built up far too much restless energy as a result. “I thought you might take the opportunity while the school was largely empty of students, but instead you’ve spent the holiday goofing about and having tea with the students.”

“I’m terribly sorry if you felt excluded, my boy,” Albus said congenially. “Harry’s coming by again for tea tomorrow with all the Weasley boys, you are more than welcome to join us. I’m thinking of making it a weekly thing, actually.”

Severus rounded on Albus accusatorially. “Don’t change the subject. Why have you done nothing to rectify this situation? I’m beginning to suspect that you placed him with the Dursleys on purpose; does subjecting the Boy-Who-Lived to an abusive childhood fulfil some master plan of yours for the greater good?” Severus practically threw the words at Albus, and Albus reacted as though stricken.

No, that wasn’t entirely true; had Severus actually struck him, doubtless Albus would have done a better job of maintaining his composure.

It lasted no longer than the space of an eye blink, but Severus had not been a spy because he lacked in observational skills, and he blanched, clearly horrified at the effect of his own words. “Headmaster, I…”

“You are upset and are making accusations that, while entirely inaccurate, are perhaps not entirely unfair,” Albus finished for him evenly. And it wasn’t as if Severus could have possibly known the effect those particular words would have on him. “The problem with a perception of omniscience is that people assume you know everything.”

“That would be the definition of omniscience,” Severus responded, still a bit uneasy, but fast recovering, or giving the appearance of it, at least.

“Yes, but when people think you know everything, they also tend to think you have control over it all, which wouldn’t necessarily follow even if I were omniscient. I make mistakes, maybe less often than the average person, but I have the misfortune of making very large ones when I do. And given the gravity of the mistake I made with Harry, I am not eager not repeat it.”

“It would hardly be difficult to find someone more suited to care for Harry than those two. Take out an ad in the _Daily Prophet_ and I’m sure you’ll be inundated with volunteers,” Severus said dismissively.

“Yes, and once I’ve called attention to the fact that I’ve already placed Harry with an unsuitable family once, no doubt the Minister would then feel the need to step in and make the arrangements this time.” Albus didn’t finish the thought, as they both knew who would end up with Harry’s guardianship in that situation. The best case would be for Cornelius to decide that he might grab some notoriety by taking care of Harry himself, and, all due respect to Cornelius, if that was what they were hoping for, then they were in dire straits indeed. “As such I’ve decided to take a somewhat cautious approach, which has slowed things down considerably. That’s not to say I’ve made no progress.”

“You have someone in mind, then?” Severus asked. “Who?”

“First, I think a little context,” Albus said. He had no illusions about how well Severus would take this, likely that was why he had been putting the conversation off, but no need to make it worse by jumping straight into the thick of it.

“I had been aware for a while that the Potters had written a will, sometime between when Harry was born and when they went into hiding. I had never seen it myself, I was merely made aware of its existence when their solicitor came to me shortly after their death and confirmed that Harry’s placement was in accordance with their directions and to ask me to pass along the key to their vault to Harry. It was my hope that this document might have some contingency arrangements for Harry’s care, ones that could not be overridden by certain prominent families even if the situation became public.”

“I find it hard to believe that the Potters would have deliberately placed the care of their son into the hands of the likes of Petunia Evans,” Severus scoffed.

“Do you?” Albus asked. “Even after all that had happened, Lily still loved her sister very much. Is it so hard to believe that she would chose to have faith in her?”

“Not that Lily would, no,” Severus said softly.

Albus favoured Severus with a fond look before continuing. “As it turns out, they didn’t precisely leave Harry to his aunt and uncle, regardless. It took me some time to track down their will, as I was afraid that if I went to their wizard solicitor and asked to see it, it might bring up questions that I want to avoid until the matter is settled, if they have to come up at all. Luckily the Potters had the good sense to have their will on file with a Muggle solicitor as well, and I was able to persuade her to relinquish a copy to me. What the will actually stipulates is that in the event of both of their passing, the guardianship of Harry should go to the blood relatives of Lily Potter nee Evans – I believe her parents were also still alive at the time of writing.”

“They died on May 16th 1981\. They were in a car accident when they got hit by a drunk driver,” Severus said. Albus didn’t respond directly, merely looked at the man until Severus… well he didn’t quite blush, exactly, but he did look a tinge embarrassed. “They were kind to me as a child,” he added.

“Of course.” Albus said, before moving swiftly past the uncomfortable subject. “It was really very clever wording by James and Lily, specifying Lily’s blood relatives. James didn’t have any close family left alive at that point, so there was no reason to worry about including them. Leaving it as unspecified relatives would have given the Dursleys and the Evans, had the latter still been alive, the freedom to decide who would be better suited to raising Harry for themselves, while using the qualifier ‘blood’ prevented half the Wizarding World from trying to lay claim on the boy through some distant relation to the Potter family.”

“I’m assuming, however, that they did have other possible guardians named in case Lily’s relatives proved themselves unsuitable, as you would not have brought it up otherwise,” Severus prompted.

“Oh yes, quite a list, in fact,” Albus agreed. “Though as a testament to how very bad things got back then, I’m afraid most of their proposed alternatives are no longer suitable either. The first after Lily’s relatives was-“

“Let me guess, Sirius Black,” Severus said with a sneer.

“No actually,” Albus said, letting his tone convey that he was as surprised as Severus was by this turn of events. “The next was Frank and Alice Longbottom. I suspect that while James and Lily had placed faith in Sirius when it was not warranted, they were at least aware that the man was not prepared for the responsibility of raising a young boy all on his own. By contrast the Longbottoms were also good friends with the Potters, and had their own son as well.”

If it came down to it, Albus thought he might be able to use this to place Harry with Augusta Longbottom, as a proxy for Frank and Alice, but that would be legally tenuous at best. Not to mention, while he was sure Harry would be safe and cared for with Augusta, and would likely enjoy having Neville as a foster brother, he did have some concern as to whether Augusta would be as affectionate as Harry needed after his ordeal, and the woman likely already had enough on her plate having to chase after one adolescent boy.

“Sirius is the next on the list after that, and then Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew,” Albus said.

“And then?” Severus prompted. Oh, Severus was going to take this quite poorly indeed.

“No and then, that’s the last of them.”

That earned number 13, ‘You better hope for your own sake that you’re joking.’ Well, at least it wasn’t number 18.

“You can’t possibly mean to have the werewolf take care of Harry,” Severus said nearly spitting the word ‘werewolf’ out.

“I can and do,” Albus said firmly, and just a bit chastising. A lingering fear of Remus would be sympathetic, and even lingering hatred of Sirius for the prank he had attempted to play would be understandable, but there was no call for this anger at Remus, who had been the only other true innocent in that whole affair.

“This is your most ridiculous scheme yet. He’s not a remotely suitable choice!”

“Something you and Remus agree on,” Albus noted dryly. It hadn’t taken that long, after all, to locate a copy of the Potter’s will, and for the last month Albus’s energy had been focused instead on convincing Remus of the feasibility of this plan. “Let me ask you, Severus, if Remus weren’t a werewolf would you still object?” said Albus.

“I hardly see how that matters, as he is one,” Severus said.

“I can’t very well address your concerns if I don’t know what all they are,” Albus pointed out. “Humour me.”

Severus looked a bit as though he’d rather volunteer to be the official shoulder to cry on for homesick first years, but after a moment’s thought he finally allowed, “If James Potter can be considered qualified to raise a child through an accident of procreation, then I suppose that Lupin, _were he not a dangerous monster_ , could be considered so too.”

“Thank you,” Albus said. “And as far as the danger Remus poses, rest assured I have been giving a great deal of thought to the necessary precautions. I will be making certain that Remus has access to Wolfsbane Potion every month to start.”

“And you expect me to brew it for him,” Severus said, somehow both defiant and resigned.

“I would never force you to do such a thing. Both myself and Remus would be grateful if you wished to volunteer, but I can get it elsewhere if need be,” Albus said. Personally, he thought Severus should be the one making it, as Albus was optimistic that having some control over the situation might lend itself to having some control over his fear, but he wouldn’t force it on him.

“And run the risk of the wolf winding up with an ineffective brew?” Severus sneered, though he made no other indication as yet that he would brew the potion. Ah well, he’d do it in his own time or not at all. “But I hardly think giving him Wolfsbane to be a sufficient solution to the problem; what if he forgets to take it, or if Harry needs his guardian some night, only to be confronted with a wolf instead?”

“Excellent points, both, which is why Harry will be spending the night at a friend’s house every full moon. Or, if none of his friends are available, I’m sure there are some trusted members of the staff here who would be happy to watch Harry for a single night.” And Albus was quite pleased indeed that he could include Severus on his mental list of those people.

“In that case why would you need to provide Lupin with the Wolfsbane Potion, if Harry isn’t even going to be under his supervision those nights?” Severus asked.

Albus decided to refrain from pointing out Severus’s distinct lack of sympathy, charitably chalking it up to continuing trauma. “As purely practical consideration for Harry’s home life, those afflicted with lycanthropy are much quicker to recover if their transformation was eased by Wolfsbane. But I confess I have other reasons for wanting the potion for Remus as well. One of the concerns he expressed to me about potentially becoming Harry’s guardian was that his condition makes it difficult for him to get and keep a job, and as such he simply doesn’t have the assets to raise a young boy.”

Severus looked shocked for a moment, then enraged all over again. “I’ve change my mind, _this_ is your most ridiculous scheme yet. Giving Lupin the Defence Against the Dark Arts post?” There was little question in either of their minds that the position would be open by the end of the year. “This is a school full of children and you want to set a werewolf lose in the midst of them? We all know how well that turned out last time!”

“The last time Wolfsbane Potion didn’t exist,” Albus pointed out reasonably. And, not to belittle Severus’s trauma, but no one had gotten hurt the last time either. “I should also point out that I’m not going to be hiring Remus for Defence post either; if he’s going to be raising Harry, he’ll need a job for longer than just a year.” Come to think of it, it may be time to contact Gringotts again about hiring some curse-breakers to give it another go at breaking whatever spell Tom had laid on the job – they hadn’t managed to do anything on their last attempt, but you never know. “I thought about encouraging Silvanus to go ahead and take his retirement, but given Lupin’s condition, Care of Magical Creatures may not be the best class for him to teach. Ah well, I’m sure I’ll figure something out.”

“If you must, know that you do so with my objections. And I want your word that the first time he forgets to take the Wolfsbane he’s out, no exceptions or excuses,” Severus demanded.

Albus raised an eyebrow at Severus’s presumption; the matter of hiring staff was Albus’s decision regardless of what Severus thought. But Albus supposed that in this instance Severus did have a point. Albus wouldn’t discriminate against Remus for being a werewolf, but being irresponsible with the children’s safety was a different matter altogether. “That seems fair enough; I’m sure Remus will be willing to agree to it,” Albus allowed.

“And I still don’t think the werewolf is a suitable choice for Harry’s guardian,” Severus continued.

“Lily and James trusted him to look after Harry,” Albus pointed out.

“They also trusted a mass murderer and a pair of child abusers, clearly their judgment was more than a bit suspect,” Severus returned.

“That is _enough_. The last thing we need right now is for the Potter’s will to be called into question,” Albus said, briefly losing control over his temper. Albus took a breath in and let it out slowly, rubbing at his forehead. “I am attempting to be understanding, but you are trying my patience, Severus. I fully realize that a werewolf as a single parent is less than ideal, but this is a less than ideal situation. I will offer you a deal, which you may take or leave, but after that this discussion is over.”

“I understand,” Severus said contritely, which Albus knew was the closest he would get to an apology for the man’s pushy behaviour. Albus offered a small smile as an apology of sorts of his own in return.

“It will be some time yet before I can have Remus named as Harry’s official guardian. As I’ve already mentioned in passing, Remus has some misgivings on the subject, and I still need to formalize a place for Remus on staff. Beyond that, I do want Harry and Remus to spend some time getting to know each other before anything formal is set in place. If at any point prior to when I ask Harry if he would like Remus to be his new guardian – I do intend to leave the final decision in this matter up to Harry – you can give me an alternative guardian who would be more suitable than Remus and who has a strong enough legal claim that Lucius Malfoy would not be able to dispute it, then I shall defer to your selection,” Albus said.

Severus inclined his head in acknowledgement and acceptance. “I do, however, have one further concern now.”

“And what would that be?” Albus asked.

“You say it’s going to take time to arrange matters, but the school year is almost half gone already. What do you plan to do if they still aren’t in order by the time the summer holidays arrive? Since you obviously will _not_ be sending Harry back to the Dursleys,” Severus said.

Albus found himself smiling again at the question. This had been a rather clever solution of his when the idea occurred to him, and he was pleased to be able to share it. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that of our first year students, the Muggleborns are far more likely to get sick than their Pureblood or Half-blood compatriots,” Albus said, seemingly apropos of nothing.

“Yes, because their time at Hogwarts represents the first time that many of the Muggleborns have been exposed to wizarding society specific diseases; they simply don’t have the immunity that the other students do,” Severus replied, clearly not happy with the change in subject, but willing to play along. Of course, Severus had known Albus long enough to realize that his tangents were rarely as tangential as they first appeared.

“Which is exactly why we’ve had to hold some of those students here for a short while after the summer holidays have started; their families don’t have the immune systems to prevent themselves from coming down with whatever the student has caught, and goodness knows what kind of havoc even a relatively harmless disease could wreck on a non-magical being. Not to mention that the parents simply aren’t equipped to handle the situation,” Albus continued, watching as a spark of comprehension lit Severus’s features, though Albus did not think he had quite grasped the whole of it yet.

“That might buy you some time, but only a few days, a week or two at the most,” Severus protested.

Albus made a hum of acknowledgement. “In the normal way of things, yes. But you know what I’ve been dreading, though it thankfully hasn’t come to pass since I’ve been Headmaster? The year when one of those students catches spattergroit, or some other such illness that takes months to recover from. Why, they might have to miss summer holidays altogether, which would be such a shame. Completely unavoidable for the sake of their heath, of course, but a shame.”

“And I suppose that you would expect me to stay here all summer and take care of this hypothetical brat,” Severus said, his voice dripping with disdain at the suggestion – the man did love to put on a show.

“You are, unfortunately, the most junior member of the staff that I would feel confident in leaving that kind of responsibility to, and seniority must be observed, I’m afraid,” Albus said, his conciliatory words belied by the cheery tone he delivered them in.

“I understand,” Severus said. “Though I sincerely hope it does not come to that.”

“So do I.”

“Well, then I’ll leave you to sort out your affairs while I work on mine,” Severus said, making it clear that he would be attempting to make use of their deal. His tone implied something threatening about that, but Albus didn’t see why that should be threatening. He didn’t truly believe that Severus would come across some marvellous solution that Albus had overlooked, but if he did, Albus would be nothing but grateful. All he wanted was what was best for Harry.

“One last thing, Severus. There is no greater good that can be serviced by allowing harm to come to an innocent child,” Albus said, his tone firm, but it went softer on his next sentence as he considered the man before him. “I am sorry if there’s anything I’ve done to make you feel I would think that way.”

Severus didn’t respond at all, but then, Albus had hardly expected him to.


	6. February 23rd

Weekly tea turned out to be one of Albus’s better ideas. If he had had any doubts previously as to the state of Harry’s life with the Dursleys, they had completely vanished because in the past two months Harry had absolutely flourished. While the boy had always been reasonably talented in his classes, his grades had showed a marked improvement recently, which Albus credited in part to this being the first time Harry had adults paying positive attention to his scholastic achievement. Tellingly, his Potions grade had always been a bit higher than what he received in other classes, and hadn’t showed the same recent improvement. Harry’s increased scholastic achievement could likely also be accounted for by Severus’s discovery that Harry was much more invested in learning something that he could see a personal and practical use for. So conversations on Harry’s school work had begun often including a brainstorming session on how he might be able to use the spell in the future – an idea the Filius had been so taken with, he had started including it in his assigned homework as a matter of course.

Less tangibly, Harry seemed more open and confident than he had before as well. Honestly, he had always appeared to be a well-adjusted child, remarkably so given what he had gone through, to the point that it was entirely possible, likely even, that without Severus bringing the matter to their attention, Harry’s problems would have remained unnoticed. But with his current attitude to serve as a contrast, it was abundantly apparent that what had appeared as natural reserve and modesty were in fact the product of having it repeatedly browbeat into him that no one could possibly ever care about his thoughts or feelings or wants or just him in general. Harry was now recovering, slowly, but much quicker than Albus would have suspected he would. Evidence that Harry was clearly a remarkably adaptable and resilient child.

The one regret Albus had regarding these little get-togethers, aside from the fact that he hadn’t started them sooner, was that after their first Christmas tea, Albus didn’t get to spend any of them one-on-one with Harry. Severus had a standing invitation to join them, one that he never technically accepted in so many words – on the two occasions that Albus had explicitly asked, he had received a vague ‘if I’m not busy’ as a response – but the man never failed to appear. Albus had also gotten into the habit of asking one other staff member to join them as well, though he somehow kept forgetting to extend an invitation to Quirinus and Sybill. Harry was allowed to bring guests too, though after the occasion when he’d brought all the first year girls from Gryffindor _and_ Slytherin – “they keep complaining it’s not fair, and I just wanted to get it all over with at once” – he had a hard cap of four other students on any given afternoon. (That incident had also inspired Albus to start taking tea with other students throughout the week, which was proving to be immensely popular, with some of the students at least.)

Today, Harry was joined by only Neville Longbottom, invited on Albus’s recommendation. Meanwhile Albus was flanked, at the small table in his office that had had to be transfigured larger so much of late Albus was considering just leaving it that way, by Severus – of course – and Minerva. Which left one empty chair between Minerva and Neville.

“Are we waiting on someone else, Professor?” Harry asked.

“Yes, it appears our last guest is running a bit late. I’m sure he won’t mind if we start without him,” Albus said, as he began pouring tea for everyone.

“Who’s running a bit late?” Severus asked, his tone suggesting that he thought Albus was Up To Something (emphasis, Severus’s, or at least that’s how Albus imagined he would emphasize it).

“Well Severus, if you had only formally RSVP’d to my invitation to tea today, then I would have been happy to get you a guest list. Do help yourself to some food,” Albus said, which was of course a complete non-answer. Minerva cast him an amused look, she being one of the few other people that understood how much fun it was to tease Severus.

Before Severus, or possibly one of the boys, could press the issue, a whooshing sort of noise came from the fireplace, announcing the arrival of the aforementioned guest.

“Sorry, I’m late,” said Remus Lupin, pulling his robes straight where they had come a bit askew in his journey through the floo network.

“Don’t worry about it. So good to see you again Remus; please, come join us,” said Albus, gesturing to the empty chair.

Severus was glaring at Albus with look number 10, “I don’t like surprises, and I dislike this one in particular” (which was different from look number 19, “I don’t like surprises, and I dislike this one in particular,” in that the former designated a surprise that Severus genuinely found distasteful, while the latter was for surprise that Severus would have liked, and thereby felt obligated to find extra hateful on principle). Albus returned the look with an expression that reminded Severus that this moment should not have been any great surprise, as Albus had told him about his intentions both to have Remus and Harry spend some time getting to know each other and to hire Remus as a member of the Hogwarts staff next year. Severus’s expression then morphed into the highly accusatory look number 22 “We had an arrangement.” Albus replied to that with a look meant to communicate, that yes they did have an arrangement, and of course Albus wouldn’t be making any attempts to foster Harry with Remus today, or at any point without first speaking with Severus to allow him one last chance to offer up an alternative. Severus glared at Albus a moment or two longer, then shifted back just a bit in his chair, satisfied, or at least as satisfied as he would allow himself to be given the situation.

The whole exchange took only a few seconds, less time than it took Remus to cross the room and take his seat. “Good afternoon Headmaster, Severus, Professor McGonagall,” he said, offering them each a nod in turn.

“Good afternoon, Remus. And under the circumstances, I think Minerva is fine,” the woman replied. To her students, certainly the current and possibly the former as well, her tone likely sounded the same as it ever did, but Albus could hear the warm fondness underneath.

“Thank you, Minerva,” Remus said, and then he turned to the two boys next to him. “And you both must be Harry and Neville. My name is Remus Lupin.”

“Hello Mr. Lupin, It’s nice to meet you,” Harry said, with Neville echoing the sentiment. Social niceties complete, Harry turned to Minerva and asked, “What circumstances, ma’am?”

Minerva glanced over at Albus, obviously seeking is guidance as to how much he wanted students to know. “As far as I’m aware the matter is settled, isn’t it?” Albus said. He looked over at Minerva and Remus and they both agreed with his assertion. “Well then, no reason to keep it a secret.”

Minerva let out a very small sound that she could probably reasonably claim had not been a snort of amusement. She had accused Albus just the other day, shortly after she had heard from Severus that Albus was attempting to quietly make arrangements for Remus to step in as Harry’s guardian, of being pathologically addicted to keeping things a secret, and his claims that he had been meaning to tell her about Remus, but had been distracted by other matters, fell on deaf ears. And yes, maybe he did have a slight tendency to play things a little too close to the chest a little too often, but there was often a strategic value in secrecy. It certainly wasn’t an addiction.

Having apparently made whatever point it was she wanted to make, Minerva turned her gaze to the two children. “You may not be aware, but the current population of Hogwarts is actually quite small and has been, for various reasons, for the past, oh twenty years would you say, Headmaster?”

“Twenty, perhaps even twenty-five,” Albus agreed.

“The point being, when I was offered the post of Deputy Headmistress, there were relatively few students enrolled. Because of that, and since I was reluctant to give up teaching, the Headmaster agreed that if I believed I could manage both jobs, then I would be allowed to do so. Which I have been doing for the past thirteen years now, however, we expect that the incoming class sizes are going to be getting much larger, starting two years from now probably. As such, the Headmaster and I thought it was time to revisit the number of duties I have taken on, thinking it would be wise to make any changes now before things start to get to be too much. We came to the decision that I will continue on as Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor and will keep teaching the two N.E.W.T. level Transfiguration classes, but the first through fifth year classes would be taught by someone else.”

“Which would be where I come in,” interjected Remus. “I’m afraid I’m not quite as good at transfiguration as Professor McGonagall, but I still hope you both enjoy having me as your professor next year.”

“Don’t be so modest, you got your N.E.W.T. in the subject, didn’t you?” Minerva said.

“He got an O on it, as a matter of fact,” Albus said, having recently reviewed Remus’s N.E.W.T. results in order to best figure out where to stick him on staff.

“See, that’s a good deal more than most people. You’ll do just fine,” Minerva concluded with a tone of finality.

“Oh, I’m sure I know the material, I only meant that I never had that particular gift for the subject the like in the way you have, or James did.”

“James?” Harry piped in. “Do you mean my dad, Professor Lupin?” It was an amusing assumption, given how very common the name James was, but then children tended to be especially focused and single-minded when it came to the things they were interested in. And then of course, there was the fact that Harry was completely correct.

“Yes, your father and I went to school together; he was one of my best friends, actually. And I’m not your professor yet, I think just Remus will be fine until next year, Harry, and you too Neville,” Remus said.

“Do you mean you were best friends with my dad just like Professor Snape was best friends with my mum?” Harry asked, sitting straight up in his chair and regarding the man eagerly.

Remus regarded Severus with a brief look of surprise – which was rather odd, actually; Albus wouldn’t have mentioned it because Severus had specifically made him promise not to, but it seemed like everyone else who discovered that Harry had knew of the former friendship between Severus and Lily was surprised by the knowledge. Had Severus gone around and extracted promises of silence from every one of his Hogwarts’ acquaintances? – before turning to Harry and saying, “A little like that, yes. Though your dad and I were one of a group of four, rather than just the two of us.”

“Mr. Remus?” Neville said, his tentative bearing a study in opposites almost, when compared with Harry’s excited mien. Despite that, Harry didn’t show the slightest bit of impatience with Neville for interrupting Harry’s thrilling discovery, and indeed looked just as attentive to whatever Neville wished to say as Remus did. “My Gran says that my mum and dad were really good friends with Harry’s parents before they… er, before.”

Remus favored Neville with a kind smile, appearing to understand the unspoken question in Neville’s words. “Yes they were, though I got to know Frank before Lily and James did, because he was Head Boy back when I was a fifth year prefect. Alice I didn’t meet until after we graduated from Hogwarts, since she was a year older and in Hufflepuff, but I understand that she and Lily became friends at some point during our Hogwarts years.”

“They met during that incident in our fourth year,” Severus said.

“You mean the Prank War of 1975?” Albus asked. (Not to be confused with the Prank War of 1775, which Albus was given to understand involved a good number more severed fox heads, and most of those had actually been real.) He was quite amused to see Minerva, who despite never calling Voldemort by his chosen appellation also never seemed all that disturbed when Albus did so, flinch very visibly at the mention of that event. It seemed a bit of an over dramatic reaction – she hadn’t even had to catch all the mice by herself, once Albus had gotten Argus his new kitten.

“What was the Prank War of 1975?” Harry asked. (This time Minerva did not flinch, much to Albus’s and, it appeared, Severus’s disappointment.)

“It was quite a lot of misbehavior that got very out of hand before the troublemakers were caught,” Minerva said stiffly, her tone indicating that she saw no reason for further discussion on the matter.

“Oh, come now Minerva,” Albus said. “It was an amusing interlude in retrospect, and I don’t think there can be any harm in telling the boys a story about their parents getting up to a little bit of mischief.”

Minerva sniffed, making quite clear her opinion on his choice of phrasing, but relented just the same. “Fine, as long as both you boys know that we are in no way encouraging the sort of behavior that takes place in this story.”

“Yes ma’am,” Harry and Neville said diligently, before turning to Albus, clearly eager to hear the story.

“Severus, why don’t you start us off? I believe you were when the whole thing began,” Albus said.

“Well, I would say it began when James Potter and his gang resolved to prank their way through their years at Hogwarts, a decision-making process I can happily report I was not a part of, and I recommend you apply to Lupin if you want more details on that,” Severus said smoothly. Remus looked a bit embarrassed by Severus’s pronouncement, but not unduly offended, and given both that and the fact that it was a reasonably fair assessment on Severus’s part, Albus let the jab pass unremarked on. “But if you are referring to the catalyst that set off the series of unfortunate events known as the Prank War of 1975, that took place one evening when Lily decided that she had had enough of that little group’s pranking ways, and convinced myself and the rest of the Gryffindor girls of her year to get them back by pulling, quote, the ultimate prank.”

From there Severus and Remus took alternate turns telling the story, with occasional interjections from Albus. The two men did a very good job playing up the roles that James, Lily, Alice, and even Frank had played in whole affair, especially given that by the end the battle lasted two and a half months, spanned every room and hallway in the castle except for the ones that had a password that couldn’t be got around and, by some odd coincidence, the northwest corridor on the second floor, and involved the entirety of Gryffindor, a little over half of Hufflepuff, one Slytherin boy – that was, there had been only one Slytherin that they could ever _prove_ was involved, and even now Severus remained exceedingly cagey about what his housemates had been up to at the time – three ghosts, sixteen and a half paintings, no less than eight House Elves, a medium sized cluster of young Acromantula, and one large black dog that was generally assumed to have been a stray smuggled in from Hogsmeade. It was hard to say how long things might have gone on, had they not been brought to an abrupt stop by Professor Slughorn after he got caught between James Potter and Sirius Black, who were on opposite sides of the war at that point because they claimed it to be more fun that way, in what was really a waste of a perfectly good set of encyclopedias (though Albus believed it was the gravy stains that Horace couldn’t get out of his robes that really set him off). Harry and Neville expressed some disappointment at the rather anticlimactic end to it all, but both Severus and Remus rushed to assure the boys that it only seemed that way because they hadn’t witnessed Slughorn in the direct aftermath.

“And once we managed to unearth all the troublemakers they were each assigned two weeks’ detention and lost five house points apiece,” Minerva said, taking up the flow of the narrative for the first time. “I originally wanted it to be twenty points, but that would have put both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff in the negative numbers.”

“As I recall, Ravenclaw won the House Cup quite handily that year,” Albus mused.

“Not handily, Slytherin only lost by six points,” Severus corrected. It was an odd and very specific thing to remember so precisely, but then Albus supposed it must have been a point of pride or honor or something of the sort for Severus that being the only Slytherin (definitively proven to be) involved in the affair had not been the tipping point that lost them the title that year.

“And really, the detentions weren’t that bad,” Remus volunteered. “Scrubbing the floor of the Great Hall and the Entrance Hall with a toothbrush sounds awful, but it goes much easier when you have that many people helping you.” Remus’s tone had an upbeat cast to it that matched his words, but neither of those stopped Harry and Neville from looking horrified at the notion. Which was very likely the point, given the surreptitious wink Albus caught Remus throwing Minerva’s way.

Despite what could be arguably considered an unhappy ending, it was clear that both Harry and Neville had been complete enthralled by the story. Harry, of course, had never had anyone willing to tell him stories about his parents until he had come to Hogwarts, and as for Neville… Alice and Frank Longbottom weren’t dead from a medical perspective, but that was the emotional truth of the situation for many of the people that had been close to them. And people did have a somewhat misguided tendency to only speak of the best qualities of the dead. It was a well-meant impulse, but one that often left listeners with an overly noble caricature of the deceased, that could never feel like as vibrantly real a person as the young woman running down the corridors covered in pixie dust with a muzzle in hand, screaming dire retribution on ‘that shampoo stealing dog.’

That one story ate up a good deal of time in the telling, but the boys managed to wrangle a few more out of the adults, and Remus even managed to get in a couple of questions about how Harry and Neville were enjoying their own school days, before Minerva reminded them all of the time and excused herself to work on some grading. Remus left soon thereafter.

“So Harry, did you enjoy meeting Remus; should I invite him for tea again, do you think?” Albus asked shortly after the man in question had left.

He had been expecting an enthusiastic response – Harry had been especially animated during their time together today – and so was a bit nonplused to see the boy biting his lip in consideration. “Would that bother you, Professor Snape? Only, I got the feeling that you two didn’t get on very well back in school.”

Albus saw a brief flicker of surprise cross Severus’s face at the consideration, but it was quickly hidden behind the man’s usual mask. Albus hadn’t expected this particular turn himself, though by all rights he probably should have. Albus might have waited to ask Harry his question until after Severus had left if the thought had occurred to him, or he might not have, but it was irrelevant now anyway. What was done was done, and now they were faced with the moment of truth.

Well, not of truth, precisely. After watching them today, Albus was quite certain that the truth was that Severus was still a bit uncomfortable around Remus, and whether or not he’d ever fully be able to get past that was yet to be seen. But if Severus shared that unvarnished truth with Harry, Albus was almost equally certain that Harry would not agree to Remus’s guardianship when Albus asked him, something that Severus was no doubt able to tell as well. Yes, Harry would probably still hold a fondness for Remus regardless, and if it were put to Harry as a choice between his aunt and uncle or Remus, Harry would go with Remus. But Albus had no intention of forcing the decision on Harry in that way, and even if Harry still liked Remus, Albus didn’t think the trust would be there anymore.

That’s what this moment was really, a moment of trust. Both Albus’s trust that Severus would do what he thought was right, regardless of personal feeling, and, far more importantly, the trust Harry had placed in Severus to look out for him. As such, despite any small private misgivings, Albus stayed silent and let Severus come to the decision on his own.

What that decision would have been they would never know, because at that moment Neville said softly, but with a full measure of conviction, “I would like to see Mr. Remus again.”

Neville Longbottom. Albus would readily admit to having something of a favorite in Harry – though in his defense, Lily Potter had at one time managed, and despite being present when it happened Albus was still not entirely certain how, to convince Albus to change one of infant Harry’s nappies, which was not a bond Albus shared with most of his students. But over the course of the past year, Albus had found himself intrigued by Neville. At first, Albus merely found himself grateful on the uncertain and stumbling boy’s behalf that he didn’t have to bear the burden that may one day yet fall on Harry’s shoulders; it seemed very likely that the boy would have broken under the pressure. But in time, Albus had come to see a core of steel underneath the self-conscious exterior. It was all the more impressive to Albus because that sort of quiet bravery was something that Albus had rarely managed himself. He rather thought that Neville Longbottom would not have let Grindelwald go on for as long as he had.

This opinion of Neville was not one Severus shared – ‘tends to see the worst in students’ was at the top of the ‘areas that could use improvement’ on Severus’s teacher evaluation every year – but even he seemed impressed by Neville’s uncommon moment of confidence. Or, at least, Albus thought he was; it was a bit difficult to tell as Severus did not respond to Neville’s comment in any way, merely gave the boy a mild considering look for a moment before turning back to Harry.

“I should hope that when you are my age, you don’t allow schoolboy grudges to dictate your actions. You certainly shouldn’t censor your wishes on my account.” And with that he bid them all good afternoon, his robes billowing particularly impressively as he swept out.

Harry turned back from watching Severus leave, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Why is Professor Snape always so embarrassed about being nice?”

Albus let out a burst of surprised and delighted laughter. “I wish I could tell you Harry, but I honestly don’t understand it myself.”

Harry pulled a face at that and looked at Neville. “Adults are weird.”


	7. March 27th

“That managed to resolve itself remarkably quickly,” Severus said suspiciously, though it was anyone’s guess what he was suspicious of. Then again, Severus could find a reason to be suspicious of the sun’s motives if he wanted to, so it wasn’t as though it was terribly out of character.

“Remus is quite taken with the child; Harry seems to have that effect on people,” Albus said, wry hints to his tone. Severus was clearly not in the least bit amused by Albus’s insinuations, but Albus was plenty amused by Severus’s reaction to the insinuations, so it all worked out.

“That is precisely my point. You gave me every indication that he was reluctant to take guardianship of Harry because he saw himself unfit for the task, yet after a month of knowing him, Lupin is suddenly eager to take the responsibility on? One has to wonder if his feelings for Harry aren’t overriding his common sense.”

“I’ll remind you that I never once doubted that Remus was equal to the task. It’s my opinion that his feelings for Harry are allowing him to overcome his fears. But never mind that, I didn’t ask you here to share _my_ opinion, I wanted your assessment on the matter before I speak with Harry: do you think Remus will prove an acceptable guardian for Harry, or have you managed to find a preferable alternative?”

Severus did not respond right away, which wasn’t surprising, but Albus _was_ concerned about how very torn he looked, as though waging some inner battle with himself. It was possible that Severus really hadn’t come up with any other options, but was reluctant to admit it, but that didn’t seem to quite fit to Albus. Yet when Severus finally did speak, it was only to say, “No, the wolf is the best choice.”

Albus frowned. ‘Best choice’ implied that Severus thought there were other, if less preferable, choices to be made. “Was there some other possibility you were considering? If so, I’m more than happy to discuss it with you to be sure as to whether Remus is a better option. My main concern is that we do right by Harry.”

“I tell you I think you were right all along and that Lupin is the best choice, and now suddenly you want to discuss it?” Severus said, favouring Albus with look number 5. “I’ve agreed to what you wanted, so just call Harry up here and let’s get this whole thing over with.”

Albus gave Severus a long look, but whatever was bothering the man, he seemed bound and determined to keep his own council on the matter, and it would be a bit hypocritical for Albus to fault him for that. “Very well then, I just have Minerva tell Harry that I want a word,” Albus said cheerily, before doing just that – the Protean charm was such a useful invention.

At no point while Albus was contacting Minerva did Severus make any attempt to leave, which was unusual; Severus was not given to lingering somewhere if he felt his presence was unnecessary. Of course, the only conclusion that could be drawn from there was that Severus did feel his presence was necessary, perhaps for a cause related to whatever he was holding back. Well, no reason to run him off, unless Harry objected to him being there, which seemed unlikely in the extreme.

Severus and Albus chatted amicably while waiting for Harry to arrive from Gryffindor Tower, Albus found himself suspicious of Severus once again when the man suggested, a little too firmly, that if Harry were agreeable to the arrangement then Remus should be brought in immediately so the two could settle things between them. Severus did have a general distaste for delays once a course of action had been decided on, but still… He was almost certainly up to something. Albus almost pressed him on it right then and there, but decided to let it go. Whatever dramatic reveal Severus had planned was unlikely to be anything too drastic, given Harry’s marked distaste for drama, and Albus was sure that ultimately Severus had Harry’s best interests at heart. Whatever else was going on, Albus would find out in due course.

Roughly fifteen minutes later, Harry arrived. “You wanted to see me Professor? Oh, hullo Professor Snape.”

“Hello Harry,” Albus said, while Severus gave the boy a nod. “Yes, please come sit down, I have a matter of some importance to discuss with you.”

“Now, I told you at the beginning of the year that you wouldn’t have to return to the Dursleys care, and I know we haven’t discussed it since then, but I hope you don’t think that’s because I’ve forgotten about it or think it’s unimportant.”

“Professor Snape said you’ve been working on it,” Harry offered, and Albus shot Severus a grateful smile.

“Yes, I have been. I’m sorry that it took me as long as it has, but after the last time, I wanted to be extra careful that nothing like that happens again. The good news is that I now have someone that I, and Severus too I believe, think is a suitable choice and who says he would be very happy to take you in. But before we finalize anything, I wanted to speak to you first and see how you feel about it. Would you like Remus Lupin to be your guardian?”

“You mean I really don’t have to go back to the Dursleys? I can live with Remus instead?” Harry said, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“You won’t be going back to the Dursleys regardless,” Severus interjected.

“Severus is right; I don’t want you to think this is a choice between Remus and the Dursleys. If we have to, I’ll come up with excuses to keep you at Hogwarts all summer long for the next six years before you go back to the Dursleys. But I rather it not come to that. Hogwarts is meant to be your home away from home; I want you to have a real home as well. With Remus, if that’s what you want, and if you think he’ll make you feel happy and safe,” Albus said.

“Yes, I want to live with Remus,” Harry said. Albus had been originally planning on questioning him just a bit further, to be absolutely certain that this is what Harry desired and he wasn’t just putting on a show to avoid being sent back to the Dursleys, or to avoid offending Remus, but that degree of enthusiasm couldn’t be faked. Nor could the very real dejection when Harry slumped back in his chair and said, “If you’re really sure he wants me.”

“Quite certain,” Albus reassured him. “In fact, if you wait just a few minutes you can speak with him yourself.” Albus sent off a Patronus requesting Remus’s presence, when Harry looking heartbreakingly nervous, nodded in agreement to Albus’s proposal.

It was actually closer to ten minutes later when Remus flooed through to Albus’s office. “Harry, Albus, Severus,” Remus said, giving them each a nod in turn. He didn’t seem the least bit surprised by Severus’s attendance to this meeting, which seemed to suggest that whatever Severus was up to, Remus was in on it too. That was a fairly comforting notion, anything that the two of them were in agreement on was very doubtful to be something that Albus would object to.

Albus and Severus returned the greeting silently, and Harry gave an uncertain smile and said, “Hello, Remus. Did Professor Dumbledore tell you what we were just talking about?”

“He did,” Remus said, answering Harry’s smile with a reassuring one of his own. “He said that you were discussing the possibility of you coming to live with me.”

“If that’s what you want,” Harry said quickly.

“Very much so,” Remus said. He opened his mouth to continue when Severus cleared his throat pointedly, and Remus paused for a moment to give him a sardonic look. “Yes, thank you Severus, I was just getting to that. As I was saying, that’s what I want, but I’m much more concerned about what _you_ want, Harry. But before you decide whether or not that is to live with me, there’s something I need to tell you about myself. Professor Dumbledore hasn’t mention it because, I think, he was attempting to respect my privacy, but my privacy isn’t nearly as important as you are. Now, I’m going to tell you a secret about myself, one that I’d appreciate you keeping this just between the four of us. If after I tell you it, you aren’t comfortable with the idea of living with me anymore, you just say so, and I promise I won’t be upset, okay?”

Oh, was that what all this fuss was about? Remus was quite right in that Albus had never told Harry out of respect for the other man’s privacy, but the reason he had never brought it up as something that Harry _should_ be told was Albus didn’t see as it mattered, something that he had no doubt that Harry would be in agreement with him on… though Albus did suppose he could see Remus and Severus seeing it as something important for Harry to know. Still, all this secrecy and arranging things behind Albus’s back was quite unnecessary; if Remus wanted to tell Harry, then Albus didn’t particularly care one way or the other.

“Okay. And I won’t tell anyone; I’m good at keeping secrets,” Harry said, and Albus had to hold back a frown as he was unintentionally reminded of why Harry was so good at keeping things hidden.

“Thank you,” Remus said. He walked across the room to crouch in front of Harry’s chair, so he could look the boy in the eye for his next words. “The truth is I’m a werewolf.”

Harry’s eyes went wide, and Albus imagined he could see the wheels in the boy’s head turning as he sorted out this revelation. “Does that mean you can talk to wolves like I can talk to snakes?”

Nonplussed, Remus looked to Albus as though for guidance, but he had none to give. He supposed it was entirely possible that the topic of werewolves hadn’t come up for Harry at any time over the past seven months while he had been at Hogwarts, but Albus had thought that even Muggles were aware of the basic facts surrounding werewolves. Severus was looking thoroughly confused    , at least by Severus’s standards, by Harry’s question as well, so there was no help to be had there.

“Harry,” Remus said slowly, “a werewolf is someone who is forcibly transformed into a creature very similar to a wolf on the night of the full moon.”

“I know that,” Harry said dismissively. “I was just wondering if when you were in your wolf form you could talk to regular wolves.”

“I don’t know,” Remus said. “I’ve never tried.”

“You should try the next full moon! Draco says there’s a pack of wolves in the Forbidden Forest, so you could do it there. Well, actually he said there was a pack of werewolves, but we all decided that that didn’t make a lot of sense and he agreed that he must’ve heard it wrong,” Harry said blithely.

By now both Remus and Severus were looking completely baffled – Albus decided to dub look number 28 as ‘The world is not what I thought it was and now I don’t know _what_ is going on’ – and it was all Albus could do not to laugh at the three of them.

“You aren’t bothered by this?” Remus asked tentatively.

“Why would I be bothered? You can turn into a wolf; that’s awesome,” Harry said, now also looking confused, though not nearly so much yet as Remus and Severus.

“I think Remus is referring to the prejudice the wizarding world tends to have against werewolves,” Albus added helpfully when it seemed the other three would be content to stare at each other in puzzlement indefinitely.

“Oh, that,” Harry said, with a tone that suggested that such notions were not worth his time. “Hermione says that that’s a travesty of justice, and I think it’s stupid. The only other person I know who can even turn into an animal at all is Professor McGonagall, and she only turns into a cat. Wolves are much cooler.”

“ _Professor McGonagall_ doesn’t turn into a mindless, bloodthirsty beast when she transforms,” Severus spat out.

“Severus!” Albus admonished, but was quieted by a gesture from Remus.

“No, he’s right,” Remus said. “I want you to promise me that if you ever come across me while I’m in my wolf form, you will get away to somewhere safe, preferably with an adult to help you, as quick as you can, even if you think I’m on Wolfsbane.”

“What’s Wolfsbane?” Harry asked.

“A potion that allows me to retain my right mind while I’m a wolf. Your promise, Harry,” Remus prompted.

“I promise,” Harry said dutifully. “You know, Professor Snape is really good at making potions.” This last was added with a glance over to Severus that was not nearly as covert as Harry probably thought it was.

“There’s no need for flattery. I’ve already made it clear to Lupin that I have no intention of letting him loose around schoolchildren unless he’s taking Wolfsbane made by a brewer that I trust to get it right,” Severus said, the only such brewer being Severus himself being heavily implied.

“Thank you, Professor,” Harry said, beaming at the man, and Albus favoured Severus with a small smile as well. Severus had come around to the idea very quickly, and without any pushing from Albus whatsoever. Albus had been tempted, because he really did believe Severus would find it therapeutic, but had resisted because he thought it would undermine the feeling of control Severus was meant to gain a bit if he felt forced into it. And it did seem to be helping Severus, since he appeared a bit less on edge around Remus now than he had been the first time Remus had joined them for tea. Though Albus supposed that could just be due to the repeated exposure over the past month.

Severus gave Harry a look in reply that suggested that Severus did not do things for gratitude, and that neither Albus nor, he would guess, Harry believed a single bit.

“So Harry,” Remus said, still crouching in front of the boy’s chair, and that had to be getting uncomfortable by now. “Did you want to come live with me, or would you rather Dumbledore find someone el-“

“I want to come live with you,” Harry said all in a rush. He blinked a few times as though surprised by his own words, then added more slowly. “If you don’t think I’ll be a burden.”

“Harry,” said Remus, his voice breaking a bit. “I don’t know what your relatives told you, but taking care of someone you love as much as I love you could never be a burden.”

It was hard to say which of them moved first, but in less than an eye blink, Harry and Remus were suddenly gripping each other in a tight hug and Albus felt obliged to look away, lest he intrude on something private.

Severus, Albus noticed, did not look away, instead watching the two with the oddest expression on his face. Longing foremost – the full moon occurred the Monday after school got out; perhaps it would be prudent to have Harry stay on campus for a few extra days after all – but also resolution and resignation and uncertainty all in equal measure. And, for the first time, Albus found himself completely at a loss to put a name to it.


	8. April 24th

Albus frowned at the class schedules in front of him. He almost had it all sorted out, if he could only schedule the third year Divination class on Wednesday at 9am, except that was at the same time as third year Ancient Runes, and there was precisely one student signed up for both those classes. Maybe if he changed the time of the third year Hufflepuff’s Transfiguration class? But no, because then he’d have to move that class there, and then that class there, and then that class over there, and now sixth year Potions and Charms were at the same time, and that couldn’t possibly work.

Albus sighed and pushed his paperwork away for now. It was a tedious task, and he lacked the concentration to work on properly at the moment anyway. His mind was plagued with a myriad of small worries that he lacked the ability to do anything about, so they merely sat there, nagging away at him and driving him to distraction.

Quirinus should by all rights be his chief concern, but nothing had changed significantly on that front for the past couple of months, so it began to fade somewhat to the back of Albus’s mind. The last big revelation had been back in February, when Albus had granted Severus permission to use Legilimency on the man to see if they could uncover the specifics of what he was up to. Albus had been reluctant to allow it before, because if Quirinus had realized they had pulled information from his mind, his response may have been drastic, but they were getting nowhere, so Albus finally given in to Severus’s request.  Unfortunately, Severus’s attempts had been rebuffed by Quirinus’s Occlumency, which was disheartening, but in retrospect not particularly surprising. Given the necessity for secrecy in the task Quirinus was attempting, it would make sense that he would have learned some Occlumency, or perhaps had been chosen by whoever he was working for, if Albus was correct in assuming that, because of a pre-existing talent for the craft. Not to mention, while Severus was a highly gifted Occlumens, his skill at Legilimency was probably best described as proficient

Then there was the issue of Severus himself. The more Albus thought about it, the more he became convinced that whatever issue the man had been wrestling with the night Remus had been appointed as Harry’s new guardian, it had nothing, or at least little, to do with his and Remus’s plans to unmask Remus as a werewolf. It was hard to articulate what, exactly, was different about Severus now as opposed to before that night, because the man had always been inclined toward a moody and sullen disposition, but there was a certain… indecision, maybe, about him that there hadn’t been before. Albus had tried to get him to talk about it a few times, but Severus had been completely resistant to the idea. Then when Albus had mentioned causally in passing that Harry might be staying at Hogwarts for a few extra days at the end of the year, due to the full moon occurring immediately afterward, Severus had _snapped_ at him.

Albus had dropped the matter completely after that. Severus had a tendency to lash out when emotionally discomfited, and while Albus could take it, he was worried that Harry might get inadvertently caught in the crossfire at some point. If that happened there was no telling the emotional havoc it would wreak on Harry and Severus both. No matter how much Albus thought talking about it would help, it certainly wouldn’t if it were forced on him. 

One possible explanation that occurred to Albus was that perhaps Severus had been considering putting himself forward as an alternative to Remus as a guardian for Harry. Ultimately, it wouldn’t have made much of a difference if he had; there was no real legal reason for placing Harry with Severus, and for that reason Albus would have had to prioritize Remus as possibility. Something that Severus undoubtedly realized, which was why he declined to bring it up. Still, Albus wished that Severus would talk to him about these things. Or if not Albus, then talk to _someone_ , at least.

Then there was the problem with Harry. Albus supposed it was unreasonable of him to expect that Harry would continue his recovery at a steady pace without any backwards lapses, but things had been going so well that Albus had fallen into a subconscious trap of assuming that they would always continue to do so. And now, out of nowhere it seemed, Harry was acting nervous and secretive again. Albus, Severus, and Minerva had all made attempts at getting the boy to confide in them, to no avail. Though that might in part be due to the fact that none of them were pressing the issue _too_ hard. Whatever it was that Harry was hiding, it was making him nervous, but not exceedingly distressed, and without any other cause for alarm, it seemed better to allow Harry his sense of privacy rather than forcing him to speak. Besides, Remus was going to be stopping by again the following weekend; perhaps Harry would be more comfortable opening up to his guardian, and someone who was as of yet not a professor, if Harry’s secret involved some sort of infraction of school rules.

A light chime cut through Albus’s thoughts, and less than a minute later Severus entered the office after a perfunctory knock on the door. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” he asked, eyeing the stack of papers on the desk in front of Albus.

“Nothing that I’m not happy to have interrupted,” Albus assured him. He was so looking forward to next year, when he could hand this particular task off to Minerva without feeling guilty about taking up her time.

“I’ve found out what Harry’s been hiding,” Severus told him, sporting look number 25, ‘Ha! He likes me better.’ (Far from making Albus jealous, this was one of his favourite of Severus’s expressions, as to Albus it really captured just how far the man had come.) “It appears Hagrid is up to his old tricks.”

“Harry stumbled across Fluffy?” Albus asked. It would be somewhat relieving if that was the case; Albus had fully expected a handful of students to discover the beast at some point – some children seemed to take the promise of a very painful death as less of a warning and more of a challenge. Albus considered it something of a testament to how well-behaved the student body was in general that the whole school didn’t know about the Cerberus on the third floor. Though perhaps next time, in the unfortunate event that something similar were to happen in the future, Albus would chose a wording that was a little less dire. After all, Fluffy was far too well trained to pose any real danger to someone just sticking their head in the door; he would only attack if someone tried to approach the trapdoor he was guarding.

Honestly, he just wished Flamel would hurry and get his own safe-keeping place for the Stone together. Yes, Albus owed Flamel a favour, but this was supposed to be a stopgap measure and one that only lasted a month or two, not three-quarters of a year. He would have to make sure to be more specific on the time window as well next time; in retrospect he probably should have realized that a ‘few months at most’ meant something different to someone in his sixth century of life than to someone in their first or second.

“That’s not what I was referring to. Apparently, as of this morning, Hagrid is the proud owner of a freshly-hatched baby dragon,” Severus said.

“Oh dear.” That was taking things a bit too far. Albus knew that Rubeus had a fondness for magical creatures, and a good deal of skill in the care and raising of them – personally, Albus considered his gift to be almost on par with Albus’s own for transfiguration – and if Albus ever found himself in the position that he needed someone to raise a dragon, Rubeus would likely be his first choice. However, Albus did _not_ need a dragon either now or for the foreseeable future, and keeping one on school grounds was dangerous in the extreme, not to mention very illegal. “How did Rubeus even managed to get his hands on a dragon?” Albus felt compelled to ask.

“According to Harry, he won the egg in a card game.” One which had almost certainly been played down at the Hog’s Head. Really, Albus understood, and even agreed with to a certain degree, Aberforth’s inclination toward turning a blind eye now and again, but if it was to the point that he failed to notice a dragon’s egg changing hands, he was taking things a bit too far. And if he had only been pretending not to notice… well, Albus was aware that the two of them weren’t exactly suffused with brotherly feeling, but a little warning, for the sake of the children if nothing else, would have been nice.

“I had better go talk to Rubeus,” Albus said, getting up. Well, he had wanted something more interesting to do than creating class schedules, which this conversation certainly promised to be. Be careful what you wish for, and Albus should really be old enough to know better by now.

“Headmaster,” Severus said, and Albus turned to look at him again. “Harry was very anxious on Hagrid’s behalf when he confided in me. In fact, he attempted to make me promise that Hagrid would not get into any trouble for his actions before telling me anything.”

“A promise I’m presuming you didn’t make?” Albus said. He wasn’t planning on firing Rubeus, nor bringing any sort of legal action against him – especially not after Rubeus had been falsely blamed for the Chamber of Secrets incident and with Cornelius being as… excitable as he was – but Rubeus was certainly due for a reprimand, even if it took breaking a promise with Harry to give it to him.

“Of course not,” Severus scoffed. “I just thought you should be made aware of Harry’s feelings on the matter.”

Albus smiled. “Thank you, Severus, I appreciate it. And I’m sure, were he aware of it, Harry would too.”

“I don’t do things for appreciation,” Severus said bitingly.

“Of course not,” Albus responded, subtly mimicking Severus’s tones from a minute ago. He let the comment sit for a moment or two before completing it with, “You do it because you care.”


	9. May 30th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically according to the timeline on the HP Lexicon Quirrell's attempt to steal the stone doesn't occur until June the 4th, but that doesn't really work with the format I've set up here. So even though I hate to do it, I'm using my author's prerogative to say the changes here as compared to canon have caused some sort of unspecified cascade resulting in Quirrell moving up his attempts to May 30th.

Albus placed both hands on his desk, closed his eyes, and tried to slow his breathing. In. Out. In. Out.

_Such a shame… I had hoped it was young Harry coming through the flames… ah, well… next time._

Fear gripped Albus again and this time the wave of panic only abated in response to a musical trilling coming from near the door. Albus, feeling calm now, if not free of fear, opened his eyes to look over at Fawkes in gratitude. “Thank you old friend.” Fawkes gave on last sleepy whistle in acknowledgment, then tucked his head back under his wing.

Albus’s mistake had been in allowing Voldemort to talk. He did not blame himself for not immediately subduing Quirinus when Albus had discovered him in the room with the Stone. The man posed little threat to Albus himself, and, having just caught him red-handed, Albus was in the best position he had been in yet to figure out Quirinus’s true motives. But after he had unveiled Voldemort from beneath his turban, Albus should have abandoned all plans of getting information, and sent Voldemort away as quickly as possible. (Of course, the best possible outcome would have been to capture Voldemort, but Albus did not know any spells for holding such a shade prisoner, if a spell like that even existed.)

But the things that Albus hoped to learn from Quirinus paled in comparison to the things he needed to discover regarding the former Tom Riddle, first and foremost being how he was still alive, in a manner of speaking. Albus had theories, but without proof or evidence, they were nothing more than guesses with vaguely defined edges. Not that Albus actually expected Voldemort to outright tell him anything, but he had hoped to at least get hints that might guide his thinking. But Voldemort gave none of that, instead focusing his conversation around one thing, or person rather: Harry.

Back in his school days, Tom had always had an interest in immortality, an interest that Albus had watched, from a distance, grow into a full blown obsession. The thought of living forever, or more precisely, never dying, held a place even above the acquisition of power as Voldemort’s driving force. And yet that obsession seemed to pale tonight in comparison to the focus he gave to Harry, his voice caressing the child’s name like a snake slowly wrapping around its prey. Albus tried to convince himself that this obsession, or at least the depthless nature of it, was merely an affectation. Voldemort didn’t truly understand love, but he knew how to recognize it in someone else well enough to be able to turn it against them to make them suffer: after all, Voldemort was very well-versed in the giving of pain.

But try as he might, Albus couldn’t force himself to believe the obsession was faked. It made too much sense, if only in the twisted way that Voldemort ever made sense. From Voldemort’s perspective Harry had, as little more than an infant, both resisted the Killing Curse and outmatched a formidable wizard. Immortality and power all wrapped up in one small boy, how could one such as Voldemort not develop a fascination with Harry? A sick and twisted fascination, like all the things that man touched became, and it made Albus wish that there was a way to reveal the whole of the prophecy to Voldemort: at least that might earn Harry a relatively quick death if it ever came to the worst.

No. It would not come to that, because Albus would not allow it to. Maybe it had been a mistake to let Voldemort speak, to let his vile words slither their way into Albus’s brain, but maybe not. Because now Albus knew Voldemort was back, Albus knew what he was up to, and most importantly, he knew how vital it was that he create somewhere safe for Harry to hide should that worst case scenario ever happen, somewhere that Voldemort could never reach him.

The answer came to Albus in a flash, and he found himself lifting his hands in the air in front of him, as though to push the realization away. He couldn’t do that to Harry, especially not after he had promised him over and over that something like that would never happen again. But if he didn’t make this choice and Harry was captured by Voldemort because of it… Harry miserable and hating Albus, but alive and safe was infinitely preferable to that alternative.

As soon as he accepted that this was indeed what he had to do, Albus sent a Patronus summoning Remus. If Albus delayed, he might end up talking himself out of it after all.

Albus used the fifteen minute or so wait for Remus to try and reclaim at least semblance of calm, but it seemed his efforts were largely ineffective, for Remus took one look at Albus and asked, distress bleeding from his tone, “What happened?”

“Something terrible,” Albus said succinctly. “Luckily I was able to deal with the problem for now, but it did bring to light a larger issue that I’ve failed to appropriately address. Since the beginning of the year we have all been so worried about Harry’s happiness – as well we should because that child deserves happiness, perhaps more than any of us. But no matter how concerned we are with his happiness, we cannot forget that the most important thing is that he’s kept safe. And at the moment the best way to assure Harry’s continued safety is to return him to the Dursleys. We’ll take precautions to make sure he’s cared for to the best of their ability this time, of course, and I am sorry, because I know you were looking forward to taking care of him, but this is what’s best for right now.”

“I see,” Remus said, looking very much as though he were just humouring Albus before casting two Patronuses of his own and sending them off.

“Who were those to?”

“Minerva and Severus,” said Remus. “I’m sure that whatever your reasons for suddenly wanting to send Harry back to his abusive relatives, you truly believe it’s in his best interest. And I’m sure you could convince me of that, if I let you. But that’s only because you are a very persuasive man, and I’m sometimes too accommodating for my own good. However, if you can convince Minerva and Severus that this is in Harry’s best interest as well, I will feel much more comfortable with it.”

“An excellent idea,” Albus acknowledged. He closed his eyes for a moment and just breathed again. In. Out. “I’ll feel much more comfortable then as well, I believe.” Minerva was an immensely practical woman and Severus… well, he was hardly a stranger to sacrifice and the necessity of it at times. And they both cared for Harry, such that Albus could trust them to put Harry’s best interests first, and also trust that their perception of his best interests would be coloured by sentiment for the child without being needlessly clouded by it.

Albus forced himself to sit down in his desk chair, then gestured to Remus that he might do the same. Once they were both seated, Albus gave Remus the closest thing to a smile that he could manage at the moment and said, “I think it best we wait for the other two to get here before I tell you what happened. It’s not a story I want to relate more times than I have to, and I doubt you would want to hear it multiple times.” Remus inclined his head in acknowledgment and the two of them waited in silence.

Minerva was the first to arrive – Severus was likely moving faster than her, but Minerva’s office and quarters were closer. “Hello Remus, if you’re here then I presume this is regarding the message I sent you earlier about Harry and his friends?”

“Correct,” Albus said. “And I would like to hear more about what exactly transpired with the children, but we need to wait for Severus’s arrival first.”

Minerva frowned a little. “I hardly think we need Severus if this is a disciplinary matter for a lot of Gryffindor students making up stories. Unless… you can’t possibly mean to imply that someone was actually trying to steal the Stone?”

“Trying and arguably nearly succeeding,” Albus told her.

“What stone?” Remus asked.

“The Philosopher’s Stone,” Albus said. “I owed Nicholas Flamel a favour, and when he became aware that his Gringotts’ vault containing the Stone was going to be broken into, he asked that I allow him to use Hogwarts as a temporary home for it until he could create a much more secure place to keep it.”

“But keeping an artefact like that in the midst of a bunch of schoolchildren, isn’t that incredibly dangerous?” Remus protested.

“We took precautions, chief among them not letting people know that the Stone was here, and as I said it was only ever intended as a temporary stop-gap measure,” Albus said. “But you’re right of course. In fact, it turned out to be far more dangerous than I imagined.”

“Albus, what –” Minerva began, but was cut off when Severus entered the room.

“Ah, good. Please take a seat Severus and we can begin,” Albus said.

“Begin what?” Severus asked, sitting down in the last available chair and regarding Albus with look number 3, ‘I’m not sure what you’re up to, but I doubt I’m going to like it.’

“We have grave matters to discuss, I’m afraid,” Albus said.

“Someone apparently managed to get into the castle and tried to steal the Philosopher’s Stone,” Minerva added.

“I certainly never told Quirrell how to get past my protection, and I doubt he’s smart enough to sort it out on his own,” Severus said.

“Quirinus? He’s been a member of the staff here for years; I can hardly believe he was the one who tried to steal the Stone,” Minerva said.

Severus scoffed. “Of course he’s the one who did it. You must have noticed how he’s changed since he came back from Romania.”

“Well, changed yes certainly, but not into a criminal,” Minerva objected. “If anything, he seems a less likely suspect now than he would have before.”

“All of this is very concerning I’m sure,” Remus said. “But I don’t understand what it has to do with the sudden decision to make Harry go live with his relatives again.”

“What?!” Severus and Minerva said nearly simultaneously, both of them rounding on Remus, who threw his hands up defensively.

Albus cleared his throat delicately and when the three all almost immediately turned to look at him he regard them with a placid expression. “Perhaps it would be better if we began at the beginning and proceeded on in a logical fashion from there,” he suggested, mildly rebuking. “Minerva, why don’t you start with what happened earlier with Harry to prompt you to contact me while I was out.”

“I presume you mean to come back to what gave Remus the ludicrous idea that Harry was going to be sent back to those horrid people?” Albus gave her a brief nod, and Minerva drew herself up a little straighter and continued. “Well then, earlier I was walking through the halls when I happened to pass in front of the entrance to your office, Headmaster. As I did so the door came open and Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Hermione Granger all came out. Since I knew you were out at a request from the Minister and couldn’t have possibly requested their presence yourself, I questioned them and they claimed they were trying to warn you that someone was going to steal the Stone. That seemed unlikely in the extreme to me, and certainly nothing that a bunch of students should get involved in, but considering the circumstances, I thought it best that I not seem immediately dismissive of Mr. Potter if he was seeing fit to bring his concerns to an authority figure. So I pressed further and they revealed that Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley and Draco Malfoy had peeked into the north wing on the third floor and seen the Cerberus there –”

“Fluffy is his name,” Albus said.

“Quite,” Minerva said, briefly crinkling her nose in distaste. Admittedly it was a rather odd name for such a creature, but it was his name nevertheless; no reason not to use it. “As I was saying, the three boys had seen ‘Fluffy’ and Mr. Malfoy in particular noticed the trapdoor beneath the creature’s feet. They started prying into the matter and were able to piece together that the Philosopher’s Stone was being hidden down there under protections placed by various staff members and furthermore Misters Potter, Weasley, and Longbottom and Miss Granger discovered while speaking with Rubeus today that he accidentally let slip to someone the method for soothing… Fluffy. The children mentioned something about a dragon egg.” Minerva gave him a significant look.

“Ah yes, that incident.” Albus said. “Not to worry, it’s been taken care of. If you recall, Charlie Weasley is working on a dragon preserve in Romania now, so I asked Arthur reach out to him and Charlie arranged for the dragon’s discreet return to the wild.”

“So good to know I’m being kept abreast of what’s going on in the castle,” Minerva said, with the faintest edge of sarcasm colouring her voice. “After the children finished relating everything to me, and given both Harry circumstances and that Miss Granger in particular is not especially prone to flights of fancy, I decided that it would be prudent to alert you of their concerns before sending them on their way and telling them to let the adults handle the matter. And that’s the last I was aware of until now. It wasn’t really Quirinus that was trying to steal the Stone, was it?”

“Yes and no,” Albus offered as an answer, which from her expression Minerva didn’t care for in the slightest. “The full answer to that question, and the rest of this tale in general, requires a bit more context, so let me start back at the beginning of the school year. From the moment I first saw Quirinus after he’d come back from his vacation I knew something had changed in him and not, I’m afraid, for the better. Severus shared my suspicions and, at my request, kept an eye on Quirinus. It soon became clear that Quirinus was indeed trying to steal the Stone, and it was also clear that he was not doing so of his own volition, but rather at someone else’s behest.”

“But if you knew that, then why allow him to stay at the school; why not fire him, or do something to remove him?” Minerva objected.

“And lose the only lead we had to who he was working for?” Severus sneered, as though he hadn’t been making the very same objections only a few months past. Albus let out a small chuckle which he quickly hid by clearing his throat, though not quickly enough, by the glare that Severus sent him.

“Severus is right; not to mention that Quirrell’s attempts were, to speak plainly, rather incompetent. Almost embarrassingly so. I thought that I would be able to handle him, and was less certain of my ability to catch and handle whoever was sent in his place if he was removed,” Albus said. “It seems to me now that this supposition was not true.”

“Albus, what happened down there?” Minerva asked.

“Well, as soon as I got your message I realized that the request from Cornelius must have been faked, and indeed not too long after I turned around the alarm alerting me that someone had gotten through the trapdoor went off. I headed back as quickly as I could, then went straight to the room where the Stone was being held. There I came across Quirinus, standing before the Mirror of Esired, my own last protection around the Stone, apparently talking to thin air.” In. Out. “Then he took off his turban.”

“I don’t understand, what’s the significance of the turban?” Remus asked.

“Of the turban itself, nothing,” Albus said. “But underneath the turban, emerging out of the back of Quirinus’s head, was a face. A face that, even distorted and half-formed as it was, I recognized instantly: Voldemort.”

Remus let out a small gasp and gripped the arms of his chair until his knuckles turned white, while Minerva looked a bit green around the edges of her tightly pursed lips. Severus remained as unperturbed-seeming as ever, merely saying in a painfully even tone, “So, He has returned.”

“Not fully,” Albus said. “He failed to acquire the Stone and consequently the Elixir of Life he was after, so he remains stuck in his current form: a wisp of spirit with less substance than even a ghost. He fled rather than face me, abandoning Quirinus and thus killing him.”

“Quirinus is dead?” Minerva asked.

“I’m afraid so,” Albus confirmed.

“I presume, Headmaster, that it’s Voldemort’s reappearance that has prompted your sudden desire to return Harry to the dubious care of his odious relatives and the particular magical protection their home provides,” Severus said. “What I fail to understand is why. I believe we’re all aware you’ve long suspected that the Dark Lord did not perish that night, so what has changed?”

“Suspecting a thing and having it confirmed are two very different situations,” Albus pointed out, but Severus merely raised an eyebrow at him. It was a valid point he was making; Albus did typically try to plan for all foreseeable contingencies, and his decision to have Harry removed from the Dursleys’ care was made with the possibility in mind that Voldemort might not yet be dead.

“You’re correct of course,” Albus said. “It’s not the mere presence of the man that’s prompted this change of plan. You see, before Voldemort fled, we spoke. I had hoped to maybe uncover even a few small details of how he managed to survive, or what his future plans were. But he was only interested in speaking on one subject: Harry. You’ve seen how single-minded he can get, Severus, and I’m sure even the two of you are peripherally aware of it. But his obsession with Harry goes beyond anything I’ve seen from him before. It’s far greater than I ever would have suspected, and I’ve come to see that we simply cannot give up the one absolute safe haven that we have for Harry.”

“How could you possibly consider a home with those people a safe haven?” Minerva said. “Those foul, despicable… child abusers!”

“I am well aware of the nature of the Dursleys. But them at least we can exercise some measure of control over. If I let them know that we’re watching them and that we expect their behaviour toward Harry to improve or there will be consequences, then Harry’s summers shouldn’t be unbearable. And he wouldn’t need to stay there the whole summer, only long enough to ensure that the protections I’ve cast remain set in place for another year, a month, two at the most,” Albus said.

“Well certainly that’s better than just abandoning Harry to the Dursleys, but do you really think that’ll be enough? Severus, you did something similar for Harry’s last month before he came to Hogwarts, didn’t you? It was my understanding that that didn’t fare too well,” Remus said.

“From what Harry reported to me, there was a significant drop-off in their actively abusive behaviour that past month, but that was merely replaced with more neglect,” said Severus.

“Yes, exactly,” Remus said. “I understand, or at least I assume, that these protections are stronger than anything else that could be done, but surely the measures to keep them are a little extreme, especially when it’s in preparation for something that may never come to pass.”

“It’s true that I can’t put a timetable on if and when Voldemort will be able to amass enough power to be a threat once again. It may be that it won’t come to pass until after Harry has grown and is beyond those protections regardless, or it may never happen at all. But I cannot merely sit back and trust that that is how it will work out,” Albus said.

“No, you’d rather put your trust in the common decency of a family who has long since proved that they have none,” Severus sneered. “You told me that you did not believe there was any greater good that could be serviced by letting harm come to an innocent child. Was that a lie, or have you simply changed your mind?”

“I am not trying to harm Harry; I’m trying to protect him.” The words came out sharp and harsh, such that all three of the others seemed taken aback. Albus forced himself to take another breath, then continued in more measured tones. “I know we all have had some experience with Voldemort, and that we all have some comprehension of the danger he poses to Harry. But I’m the only one here that was in that room with him earlier; I’m the only one who looked him in the eyes as he spoke about Harry. And what I saw there _frightened_ me. I will do whatever it takes to ensure that Harry stays safe, and if that means leaving him miserable for part of the year and hating me for the rest of his life, then so be it. But I do not want it to come to that, so if any of you know of any alternative, if you have a better option, then _please_ , tell me.”

Albus’s entreaty was met with silence, which he wasn’t surprised by. He was disappointed a little bit because, well, hope sprang eternal and there was a small part of him that maybe there was some possibility that he had overlooked, but he wasn’t surprised. But just as he was about to ask for help in determining the best way to go about what had to be done, Severus spoke.

“If the two of you could excuse us for a minute, I would like a word with the Headmaster in private.”

“Severus?” Minerva said.

“Rest assured that I have no intention of allowing him to break his promise, one that he has made _repeatedly_ ,” Severus said with a pointed glare in Albus’s direction, as though Albus wasn’t already keenly aware of that fact. “But what I have to say on the matter includes my private business, which I don’t wish to air out before all and sundry. So if you would _leave_."

Minerva wasn’t cowed in the least – Albus would have expected no less from her – and she stared intently at Severus for a long moment. Then she gave a single sharp nod and said, “Very well. We are of a like mind on this matter, so I trust you to see this resolved to our satisfaction. Remus, there are actually a few things I wanted to discuss with you for next year, if you would care to join me in my office?”

“Of course,” Remus agreed. “I’ll be along in just a minute.” Minerva left, and Remus turned to look at Severus. “I don’t wish to pry into your private business at all, but may I ask: does this solution of yours still allow me the guardianship of Harry?”

“No,” Severus answered, blunt and to the point.

“I see,” Remus said. He closed his eyes for a few seconds then opened them again and gave Severus a weak, but still genuine smile. “I realize that the two of us aren’t exactly friends, and that, given certain events in our pasts, we may never be. But I also know that you care for Harry as deeply as I do, and I know that you will keep his best interests in mind. So if there’s anything I can do to help you, with regards to Harry, or anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask me.”

“Heaven forbid that I should ever require the help of a mangy wolf,” Severus drawled sarcastically.

“Yes, well, the offer remains open.” Remus inclined his head in Albus’s direction, said, “Headmaster,” and then took his leave.

The door closed behind Remus, and for a moment the room was quiet. Albus was anxious to hear what it was Severus had in mind, to put it mildly, but he held his peace. Severus would come in his own time, or not at all.

“I am aware,” Severus said after an eternally long minute, “that the solution I am about to propose is not a particularly good one, much less ideal. However, you have not asked for an ideal solution, you asked for a better option than returning Harry to the Dursley’s. And by that exceedingly low metric I believe this qualifies.”

“And what would this be?” Albus prompted.

“That too is an answer that requires some context,” Severus told him. “My father was not a good man, and I think my mother did try her best, but her best wasn’t… suffice to say my home life growing up was not significantly better than Harry’s had been.” Albus did not react to that statement, in part because doing so would have been a mistake right now, but primarily because this wasn’t a revelation to him so much as a confirmation of long held suspicions.

“Lily eventually became aware of this and decided that, as my friend, she would take it upon herself to fix the situation. And from there she decided that the best way to do so would be to arrange it so that I could come and live with her family. Her sister and I didn’t get along, of course, but her parents were kind to me and the two of us were best friends; to ten year old Lily it seemed like the perfect solution. She suggested that we undergo a Muggle ritual called ‘blood brothers.’ It required that we both prick our fingers with a needle, and then press our wounded fingers together. The exchanging of blood would supposedly make us family at which point her parents would have to take me in. Even then I knew it wouldn’t work out that way, despite Lily’s optimism, but she asked me to do it with her, so I did.”

Albus pressed his lips tightly together to keep from interrupting. He thought he could see the shape of things now, as a great many things that had been confusing him fell into place, but it was not yet time for him to speak. This was a story Severus needed to tell to the end.

“I cannot tell you exactly what happened, but when we underwent the ritual and our blood intermingled, there was a flash of some kind of magic. And whatever precise effect the magic had, I can say for certain that it was a result of the two of us wishing in that moment that we were family.”

Severus took a deep breath in and let it out, the only indication he had given that the subject at hand was an uncomfortable one for him, though Albus knew that it must be exceedingly so. “The point being, Headmaster, that if you were to test it, I’m certain you would find that the blood of Lily Evans runs in my veins. And as a blood relative of Lily, I am qualified by law and by magic to take Harry in and become his guardian.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god you guys, I've been holding onto this revelation since May 22, 2011, which those of you paying attention might note was 4 months before I ever even posted the first chapter of this story. I've been waiting to share it for a long time; glad to finally have it out there. And now, one more chapter to go!


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